


Flowers in the Moonlight

by frenchposie



Series: Flowers in the Dark [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Children, Cold, Coughing, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Hurt/Comfort, Influenza, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Pneumonia, Sickfic, coldfic, sick!Cosette, sick!Javert, sick!ValJean, sick!fic, sneeze, sneezefic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchposie/pseuds/frenchposie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the stories of Javert/ValJean and their relationship with Cosette along the same timeline/verse as Flowers in the Dark.  I will try to keep them in order and add some landmarks for how many years have gone by, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day playing in the snow with Cosette's children, Javert catches a cold. Because ValJean is away on business, Cosette looks in on him and takes care of him until Javert returns

Javert coughed harshly as he entered the home that he and ValJean shared.  He leaned, exhausted against the wall for a moment, thankful that the other man was away in town on business for a few days.  He could feel his fever rising and thanked his lucky stars that he was not expected back to work until Monday evening. 

He rubbed a doe skin gloved hand over his forehead, pinching the area just above his nose.  He knew that he should have told Cosette that he was unwell, but he could not imagine how little rest he would have gotten in that house.

It was true that the house was quieter and a bit darker  now that Cosette was with Marius.  Her children had been born quite a few years before, but it didn’t matter.  Every day that he came home and she wasn’t there to greet him, he felt her absence.   Especially now, as he felt the weight of illness press upon him did he feel her absence.  Her care and warmth had meant the world to him – even though he was horrid at showing it.  

“Heeeh-Choo-huh!” he sneezed awkwardly, having tried to bite it back as he remembered when he first felt it coming on.

_He had decided to visit Cosette in her new home.  He and ValJean were there so often that Marius had often offered them a wing of their own.  With her father out of town, he wanted to be certain that she was properly looked in on._

_But, he had been accosted outside of their estate.  Her children decided that pegging him with snowballs was far more fun and begged him to do the same.  After a bit of begging he relented, if only to see their smiles and hear their giggles as he threatened to arrest them if they did not slow down._

_Slowly he had felt the dull achiness of illness close over him.  With a hug and a kiss he wished them all be safe and warm.  He told the oldest to tell Cosette that he had been there, but had some paperwork to attend to.  He promised he would be back in the morning._

At present, however, he was not certain that he would be able to keep such a promise. 

** LES MIS**

“Get in here, you little scamps!” Cosette called, as the dinner table was being set.  She kissed each of her children’s cold cheeks and ushered them up to their rooms to change before supper.  

“It’s too bad grand-pere Javert was not able to join us for dinner,” her oldest said, as he sat down.  

She looked at the boy serious.  “Oh?  Did you see him?”  She was curious to know if this was a serious thought or one of childhood fancy. 

“Yes, he had a snowball fight with us, but left after his nose started running.  I offered him my handkerchief, mama, but he said that he would be back tomorrow.”

“Oh dear,” she whispered, casting a look at Marius.  While Javert had certainly learned to relax and even have a nip of fun in his old age, he was still very prideful.  He never missed checking up on her when her papa was away.  It was apparent to her that for him to return home, sniffling, while not actually having checked in on her, that the man was rather ill. 

“I’ll drive you there after dinner,” Marius said, before smiling at the children and asking them about their adventures of the day. 

** LES MIS**

“Javert, are you in?” Cosette called into the house.  The only room the lights were lit in were the living room.   She quickly made her way there and smiled warmly as she saw him dozing, covered in blankets, in front of the fire.  She knocked on the wall to wake him, but did not get close enough to startle him.  He was a police officer, through and through.  He had earned the rank of Senior Inspector for the City of Paris, but the years had not been kind to him and she knew that he often slept with a pistol.

Bleary brown eyes opened slowly and then squinted as though he was uncertain of his location.  “Cosette?” he rasped.  The warmth of the fire had dried out the air in the room.  

She frowned, her brow furrowing in concern.  This was more than merely a sniffle as her eldest had indicated.   She drew some water from the pump in the kitchen and set the kettle on for tea.  She had long since stopped telling them that they needed a house keeper, but she believed it none the less.  The two of them were aging and while they were not in their graves yet, she would feel better knowing that there was a woman looking in on them. 

She brought him a glass of water and stood nearby, trying not to hover as he drank it down.  

“Cosette, you shouldn’t be here,” he said.  The raspiness had gone from his voice, but he was still extremely exhausted. 

“Where else would I be?  I hear you were threatening my children with imprisonment.  I had to check in and make certain that they had not strayed too far from the path.”  Her voice was light and held an air of humor about it.  She had never dreamed that he would be so doting on her children.  In fact, she recalled how fearful she had been to tell him she was pregnant in the beginning.  She was afraid that he would pull away – leave the grandparenting to her papa. And when they were small, he had.  But, as they grew up, he seemed to form a kinship with them.  

“Heh,” he laugh.  “Little snitches.”   He rubbed at his eyes and nose with the back of his hand.  

“Well they learned from the best – or at least are well paid,” she teased. 

“Heh,” he laughed again.  He blinked hard, furrowing his brown against some unknown problem.  Then he blinked hard again.  “Heh-EKKessssshhhh!”  he sneezed wetly, capturing it in his hands.  He withdrew his handkerchief and set to relieving his nose and cleaning off his mustache.   “Do forgive me, Cosette.”

“Of course,” she said, noticing how exhausted he was.   “Would you care for a cup of tea?” she asked, unwilling to coddle him.  He did not respond well to such things and she trusted him enough to let her know when he had enough of the surroundings.  

“Where is Marius?” Javert asked, deftly avoiding her offer of tea.  He was not a fool.  Knowing her, she already had water boiling and would bring him tea whether he asked for it or not.  Time was precious, he had found in his old age, and he didn’t wish to waste any of it on pleasantries that were unnecessary.  He barely wished to waste the energy on pleasantries that were necessary, but he did that out of respect for ValJean and Cosette. 

She shrugged.  “Somewhere between here and home, I’d imagine.” 

He nodded once.  She would be staying over.  Of course.  How could he think otherwise?  “You have children to take care of,” he admonished. 

“They have a governess  and she does just fine,” she retorted gently.  She couldn’t tell if he was making pleasant talk or actually wished her to leave.  In either case, she was staying. 

“You can stay in your room, of course,” he said, with a nod.  A few gentle coughs puffed out and he raised a fist to his lips. 

She nodded once, noting the gentle flush that was starting to rise into his cheeks. 

He looked perplexed for a moment and she wondered if he was going to sneeze again.  “I’m not certain if there are linens on the bed,” he said, quietly.

She smiled at him.  “Don’t you worry about that.  I know where they’re kept.  And, I still know how to make a bed.” 

“Oh?” he teased.  “Even with your governess and maid and cook?  You know how to –.”  His banter was cut off by another wet sneeze.  “Oh, ugh…” he said, bringing his hand to his head and rubbing just above his eyes. 

“Rest,” she said, gently.  “I’ll get you some tea.”

He watched her leave the room and realized that she had yet to sit down.  He hadn’t asked her to do so because he didn’t feel that he should have to.  No matter how many years she was married to Marius, this was still her home.  Obviously, she had forgotten – or she no longer viewed it as such. 

She returned shortly and he smiled as he sipped the spearmint tea with honey.  He felt the soothing effects on his raw throat.  “You remembered,” he whispered.  He sniffed a bit, feeling the steam relieve the building congestion. 

“Of course,” she said, sipping her own tea of chamomile and honey, standing near the doorway.

“Cosette, please.  Come in.  Make yourself comfortable,” he urged.  Her discomfort was starting to worry him.

She took a seat caddy-corner to him.  “So, tell me about work, Senior Inspector of Paris.”

“Heh,” he laughed.  “Paris is as Paris always is.”

“A seedy underground of demons and debauchery?”  He had called it such one night when she was visiting and the two men over drank a bit.

“You were never supposed to hear that,” he said, seriously, though his tone indicated that he was a bit embarrassed about it. 

She rolled her eyes.  “I’ve heard worse.  I assure you.”

Brown eyes narrowed in a most protective way.  “You never should have,” he stated. 

She put her hand up as if to stay his emotions.  “It’s all right.  Nothing I couldn’t handle.  Although…,” she smiled at him mischievously, “I have heard a bit of a rumor about you.”

He stiffened.  The rumors of society never ceased to amaze him.  What bothered him, though, was how often they were correct.  In her own way, she had a spy network that rivaled his own. 

She noticed his discomfort immediately.  She had forgotten how self conscious he was.  The higher she rose in society, the less she minded what people said.  Gossip was  a part of her life, just as law was a part of his.  “Nothing bad,” she promised. 

He released a breath that he did not realize he was holding.  “Heh-Ssshhkkkeww!”  He caught the sneeze in his handkerchief, hastily picked up as soon as he felt the familiar tickle.  He was wearing out as he relaxed, but he knew she would know that.  She had a calming effect of him and she knew it.  

“Bless,” she said gently.  “I’ve heard that you are considering retirement.”  It was years too late, really.  He was considered a relic, but highly respected for his knowledge and service.  

“Hm, yes,” he responded.  “In the spring.”  He shouldn’t have been surprised.  Although he had only discussed it with ValJean and the prefecture, she had always kept her ear low to the ground where he was concerned.  He recalled a promise that he asked her to make when she and Marius were courting: that she would tell him anything that she found out regarding the Revolution.  He had never dreamed that she would have carried her promise through the rest of her life – telling him all the little things she thought he could be interested in, or interested in her knowing. 

“Marius and I have discussed it.  We’re going to hold a ball in your honor.”

“No, Cosette, please…” He hated to be the center of attention.  The prefecture already said that they would throw him a ball.  He didn’t know if he could handle two. 

“It’s settled,” she said, not hearing his retorts.  “We’ll do it in the early summer, so that you have some time to rest and recuperate and get used to being retired.”   Although she wouldn’t say it, she was worried about him.  The fact of the matter was that he always had his work and that kept him sane.  She wondered how stir-crazy he would go without having that outlet.

He yawned deeply, too tired to have the argument. 

“Come, Javert,” she said, placing her cup on the table.  “Let’s get you to bed. No, no, leave your cup.  I’ll come down once your settled.”

“You know, Cosette.  It’s merely a cold.  I don’t need you to- Heh-T-HEH-SHH!”  The force of the sneeze nearly made him lose his footing.

“I know,” she replied, as though it had not happened.  “I’m sorry for coming by.  I was just concerned.  I’ll be gone in the morning.”   Her voice was just as kind as it had ever been, but the words sent an icy chill through him. 

Uncertain of what to say, he climbed the stairs and went into his room, leaving her downstairs with the cups.

Hours later, Javert was still tossing and turning.  He had never been an exceedingly gentle man, although he had gotten better through the years.  He had never been a very patient man, but with Cosette and ValJean, he was different - tight lipped if not down-right patient.

He heard her apology, kind and gentle, as though she was truly sorry she had come.  He stared at the wall for a bit.  He had called her his angel since she was very small.  She wasn’t a child any longer, but it seemed… but she didn’t seem hurt… He couldn’t make heads nor tails of the apology.  He recalled a time, nearly a decade before, when he had made her feel unwanted.  He swallowed thickly and coughed against the roughness in his throat.  He thought of that instance every now and again – it had been such a bad experience for all involved, it was better to ignore it.  But, he wondered if some part of her still held on to it.  He wondered if she was really apologizing for coming by or if she was merely saying what she thought he wanted to hear – what was polite. 

Getting up, he pulled his robe on and put his aching feet into his slippers.  He recalled a time when getting out of bed was not a painful experience.  He would have loved to blame it on his cold, but he knew that he could not.  He was aging.  Unlike in his youth when he felt he had all the time in the world, he was suddenly aware of how precious life could be and how precious little time was held within it. 

He knocked on her door, waiting for her permission to enter.  A few seconds later, he heard her tell him to do so.

“Are you all right?” she asked as he entered the room.  There was a clip to her words and he wondered about the origin therein. 

He sighed deeply.  Quick coughs puffed out of him.

“Come,” she said, her voice gentle as ever.  She pat the bed beside her.  “Sit by me.  Tell me what’s troubling you.”

He was about to decline her generous offer when, “Heh-Tsschoo!” He sniffed a few time and noticed with some horror that he had left his handkerchief in his bedroom.  Continuing to hold his hand over his nose and mouth another one barreled out of him.  “Heh-Shhoo!  Eh-Kesttchooo!  Ugh.”  He was relegated to breathing through his nose and he could feel the weight of dizziness blocking out his sight.  

Gentle hands closed around his arms and lead him to the bed, where he plopped down quite unceremoniously. 

“Bless you,” she said, placing a cool hand on his forehead and neck.  “Are you chilled?”  She handed him a handkerchief and waited patiently as he blew his nose.

“No, ma’am,” he whispered, as he slipped into an unfamiliar formality. 

“Ma’am?” she asked incredulously.   “Javert, are you all right?  Care to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I apologize for snapping at you,” he stated, looking at the floor.  Apologies were still so foreign to him.  But the apologies and her clipped words worried him deeply.  He could not stand to lose her, to lose her children…

She thought about his apology for a moment.  “When did you snap at me?” she asked, starting to worry about delirium. 

“When I said you needen’t have come – that it’s only a cold.” 

She shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I don’t recall.”

He didn’t know if he could believe her – if he should believe her.  He knew that being in a relationship taught a person to ignore the small hurts.  But, their relationship was built on mutual trust, mutual respect, and a shared fear that at any moment the people they trust will stop loving them and give them back.  The latter was never discussed, but Javert had done and seen enough in his lifetime to know it was there. 

“You apologized,” he reminded her.  He covered a deep yawn with the back of his hand.  He was getting so tired that his concentration was starting to wane. 

She smiled kindly at him.  That kind smile that he couldn’t read.  The one that could be her emotion or be hiding her emotion.  “Perhaps I should have let Marius wait for me until I knew if you were all right or needed assistance.  But, truly, were you that surprised that I came?”

“No,” he answered with a whisper and another yawn.  

“Come, up you get,” she said, assisting him to his feet.  “Let’s get you to bed.  We’ll discuss this once you have rested – if you still feel it warrants discussion.”

As she tucked him into bed he grasped her hand in his.  “You are not angry with me then?”

It was a combination of fever, sickness, and exhaustion that made him ask that question – that she knew.  “Of course not,” she said graciously.  “You have done nothing wrong, Javert.  Please just get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”  With that, she bent over and gave him a chaste kiss on the head.

** LES MIS**

Cosette smiled when she awoke.  Gazing out her bedroom window she could tell that it snowed more during the night.  The kids would build snowmen and she and Marius would have the afternoon to plan future activities after he picked her up. 

Getting dressed she smiled pleasantly as she heard Javert’s snores emanating from the bedroom he shared with her father.  He typically did not sleep deep enough to snore, especially not when her papa was out of town.  Apparently much had changed since she had left. 

The nip in the air made the hair on her arms stand on end and not for the first time, she wished they had a house keeper.  They were getting on in years and she would feel better if they did not have to do so much on their own. She would speak to her papa about it when he got home.  

She lit the kitchen fire and set the water on to boil.  She was no longer in the practice of making meals, but could do so if Javert needed.  She rather doubted that he would have much of an appetite and opted to ply him with tea unless he requested food. 

She heard the door open as she sat in the kitchen thinking on his comment the night before.  How he was able to say something so small that upset her so much was simply beyond her.  So many years after being rescued, being loved and raised, she still feared that his love was conditional.  She had no illusions on how he did not like children – but she and her children seemed to be the exception.   Even more than her father’s and husband’s and father in law’s acceptance and love, she worked for Javerts.  Recalling years ago, when she had thought that he was secure in his place in the house and in her love – they had fought – and he had left and nearly died.  Since then, she tried hard to be perfect – to be exactly what he wanted, lest she lose him again.  She thought that she had found the balance, but was saddened by the reality of the situation. 

She looked up and smiled to see her papa come into the kitchen.  “Tea?” she asked, getting a cup.

“Cosette what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice showing the joy he felt at the surprise of seeing her.  “Is Javert all right?” 

She nodded.  “Of course he is,” she said, standing to greet him warmly.  “He caught a bit of a sniffle when he was playing in the snow with my children.  I just came by last night to make certain that he was all right.  Marius should be by to pick me up shortly.”

“Where is he?” ValJean asked, meaning Javert.

“Asleep,” she said, understanding his question was about Javert, not Marius.  Were it up to her father, she would live their perpetually and not just visit once per week and when she was needed. 

He nodded.  “It’s good of you to take care of him,” he said, with a bit of a smile.  He couldn’t imagine Javert ever using the word sniffle.  But, from a mother of three children it sounded just right.  “Playing in the snow, eh?”  he asked as she handing him a cup of tea. 

“Yes, but don’t tell him I told you.  I’m sure he’ll simply insist that he does _not_ play.”  She smiled at him and took a sip of her own tea.  “How was business?” she asked, politely.

“Bureaucratic,” he answered with a heavy sigh.  Brown eyes looked at her tiredly and she realized it was likely he was working hard into the night and had to leave at dawn to arrive home so early.  

She frowned.  He hated bureaucracy.  “Go take a rest with Javert,” she ordered lightly.

“Cosette, I enjoy visiting with you.”  His voice was heavy with repressed exhaustion.

“Of course you do.  But, Javert does not need extra care with you home.  And, I’m sure Marius will have picked me up by the time you awake.”  She kissed him lightly on the cheek.  “I’ll see you in a few days for dinner.  Marius and I are planning a retirement party for Javert and we want your input.”

He winced.  He knew their hearts were in the right place, but Javert would not appreciate it. 

“I’ve already told Javert.  We’ll discuss it in a few days.”  She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled as he ascended the stairs. 

When Javert awoke, he cleared his parched throat.  Only then did he realize that he was being held tightly.  He smiled and coughed lightly.  “You’re home,” he rasped.

A sleepy kiss on his neck.  “You’re ill.”

A sniff.  “Just a cold.  Cosette took care of me last night.  Even though she didn’t need to.”

A low chuckle.  “She does need to.  You know that.  I hope she wasn’t too bothersome.”

“Heh-eh-sssshhehh!”  The sneeze was light but wet.   “Not at all.  Though goodness knows I wasn’t gracious.”  He sniffed again, and tried to rub away the tickle in his nose. 

“Bless.”  Another low chuckle.  “I doubt by now she expects you to be.”  He felt the man sigh and deflate in his arms.  “What is it?” he asked, pushing himself up on an arm.  

“I told her that I didn’t need her to come.  She took it so graciously.  I can’t read her anymore, Jean.  I can’t tell if she was hiding behind a mask of political acceptance or if she really was all right.”  A shiver shook through him.  

ValJean rolled his eyes.  The only time Javert worried so much was when he was running a fever.  He was so proud of his daughter to check on his companion.  She always knew when they needed her.  And she could bear the brunt of the worse times.  “Did she say anything?”  She almost never did.  But, Javert had made his living on observing people.  So sometimes he tended to read into things that weren’t really there.  

A shaky sigh.  “She apologized for coming by and promised she would be gone in the morning.”

Jean furrowed his brow.  That worried him.  She typically stayed at least until noon.  

“Cosette!?” he called for her. 

Silence.  

“She had said that she expected Marius to have picked her up by the time we awoke.   She must be gone.”  He placed a gentle kiss on Javert’s cheek and pulled him close.  “I’m sure she’s fine, Javert.  She has a party to plan for you.”

“Ugh,” the younger man groaned.  “I know she does it out of love, but I hate society gatherings.”

“Let her do it.  It means the world to her to make you happy.”

A nod and a wet sniffle.  “I know,” he whispered.  “I don’t mean to be so ornery.  What are you going to do with me being home, hm?”

“You do mean to be it.  And we wouldn’t have you any other way.”  He pressed a kiss to the side of Javert’s neck. “We love you.”

Javert winced as he swallowed.  He hoped so.

 


	2. Unwanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly following the events of 'Snitch', conversations happen after Javert feels cast aside from Cosette. A grandchild doubts Javert's love. Javert wonders how an angel could have saved him and ponders the flames of hell... while being sick - of course.  
> Sick!Javert, Sick!Cosette, Sick!ValJean

“Heh-eh-Ke-TSCHH!” Javert’s face crashed into his handkerchief and he took a deep breath, fighting against the congestion that had settled in his chest. He was three days into his cold and the snow was relentless. He was so happy that ValJean hand come back from town business early. Even working in the same town, they rarely had time to see each other during the day.

He scrubbed a hand over his greying beard. He was only a few months from retirement and he felt old. The city moved so quickly anymore and he didn’t have the energy to keep up anymore. Bile burned in his throat as he readied his handkerchief again. “Heh-eh-KETTCCCHHH!” He wheezed as he pulled in a shaky breath. Drawing himself up to his full height, he put his hands behind his back as though he was standing at ease. Cold eyes scanned the streets and he nodded respectfully at those who tipped their hats to him.

His thoughts drifted to Cosette. She had come to check in on him when he had first become symptomatic. He had been cold and ungrateful. No matter what ValJean said, he knew he had hurt her. He knew that he had struck a nerve and made her doubt her space in his life. But, he couldn’t prove it. She did not say anything of the sort when he had stated that she didn’t need to come.

He shook his head, as dark eye lashes fluttered against the familiar sensation of an impending sneeze.

He had said worse to her over the years. He had chastised her like a second father, muttered things that he didn’t realize she heard when she was a child, threatened her low those many years ago and yet she always took it in stride. He had merely said she shouldn’t have come. It was a nicety, granted one that he had meant. Perhaps she knew that. He knew he wounded her. But, ValJean had explained that an apology couldn’t come before an issue had arisen. “Heh…” But, he felt like one had arisen. “Eh… heh…ahh…” One that he had to fix before it was too late. Before… “HeTSHHH!” He sniffed thickly and groaned. One that he had to fix before the words in her head did damage beyond what he could repair.

*Les Mis*

“HUH-Waffcchhh!”

It was the third day into his cold, which was not terrible as far as ailments went, but wore him out considerably more than it had in his youth. The nearly retired Inspector wiped his nose and cleaned off his beard. Sucking in his somewhat less taught midsection he drew himself up to his full height.

Guilt weighed him down and caused his mind to float from the situation at hand. He had tried to visit Cosette the night before, but Marius had told him that she was indisposed and not receiving visitors. His heart had nearly broken. She had never denied him entry into her presence before. He felt cold as he supposed it was deserved. There were only so many hurts a person could take.   For the first time in his life, he wanted to drink on the job. Or take an early lunch.

It wasn’t only her scorn that he was worried about. It wasn’t even ValJean’s response when it was discovered that he had been turned away. It was the wounded look in his eldest grandchild’s eyes when he had snapped at him.

_Javert’s heart had clenched when Marius very politely told him that Cosette would not see him. He had offered to wait and sit with Marius for a bit, but the young man said that he had work to do and really had to get back to it._

_Javert had brushed many people off in his lifetime and always put work before his family. Of course Marius would protect his wife. It was something that he and ValJean had admired in the young boy when they had first courted._

_With a curt nod, he turned and left – coughing harshly as he stepped into the sharp dry air._

_“Grand-pere!” the oldest of the children ran up to him and tugged on his arm. “Play with us before the snow is gone,” he pleaded._

_“Not today,” he responded, his voice hoarse with repressed emotion. He needed to get home. He needed to … to sneeze. Whirling away from the child he clamped his hands over his mouth. “HetCHH-huh! Etttcchhoo!”_

_The boy had tugged at his arm again. “Please grand-pere…” he whined._

_“Get off!” he snapped, snatching his arm back. “What don’t you understand about not today!” he yelled, moving towards the young boy the same way he would some pick-pocket street urchin._

_The boy stumbled to get away from him and fell into the packed snow, his eyes large with horror. “’m sorry,” he murmured. “Just wanted to… wanted to play. I won’t do it again.”_

_The hurt in the young boy’s voice, brought Javert back to the reality he was facing. He had hurt his ward and then threatened his grandchild. He was a monster. He could see it in the boys eyes._

_He made to help the boy up, but his help was rebuffed. Before he could apologize the boy went inside, leaving Javert out in the cold, alone and heartbroken._

Even if Cosette hadn’t been angry at him before, he knew she would not be pleased with him. Worse yet, his eldest grandson was not speaking to him. And on top of everything, he still felt ill: both in his heart and throughout his body.

He knew that he had been phased out of the police force. Young investigators were using scientists to do the research to catch criminals. His sleuthing and questioning days were over. He was a relic – something the city no longer had use for. He had hoped to spend at least some of his time with Cosette, learning how to maneuver through society without making an utter fool out of himself. But now… no… he couldn’t go back to her. It was apparent that she had made her choice. That he had driven himself out of her life forever. And, he couldn’t fault her on that.

*LES MIS*

ValJean coughed into a balled fist as he made his way to Cosette and Marius’ house. The walkway, though beautiful most of the year, was icy and precarious during the winter. The cold froze his ears and he was certain that the wind was stealing his breath away. It had been nearly a week since they had seen Cosette, and that was about two days too long for his liking. Certainly she could have sent word that she was busy. She had always taken the time to write to them before.

He had barely knocked when the butler opened the door. He smiled pleasantly at the man, amazed that she had married so incredibly well. He knew she was a treasure, of course. But, since the revolutions, marrying well had become something of a fairy tale. There simply weren’t enough eligible men to go around.

“Of course, you came,” Marius said, clasping his hands warmly. He watched as the butler took Cosette’s fathers things and lead him into the study. “I do hope that Javert was not put off by his reception last night. Indeed between caring for Cosette and the finances, it was a trying day indeed.” He gestured for ValJean to take a seat. “I hope I did not offend him,” he finished, sitting on the edge of a nearby seat and leaning forward slightly.

“Javert is intense, but he is difficult to offend,” ValJean stated, protecting his partner. In reality, he knew that Javert was easy to offend – if he cared about that person. If Cosette or Marius wouldn’t see him – for whatever reason – he could see Javert walking away emotionally wounded. “But, I didn’t even realize that he had checked in.”

“Every Wednesday, like clockwork. Even if you see Cosette,” Marius said, pride evident in his voice. He was obviously not upset by the intrusion, although ValJean was surprised that he didn’t know about it.

“Excuse me,” ValJean said, coughing brusquely into his fist. “But did you say that you were caring for Cosette?”

Marius nodded.   “She’s been unwell since Monday and requested time to sleep it off. An odd request indeed, as I don’t believe she is that ill. But, I granted her a few days. She’s been up and about at times, though I am sad to say that she is asleep again.”

“Might I just look in on her? And then I’ll be out of your way,” ValJean implored. He needed to see for himself that she was well enough.

“Of course,” Marius said with a nod, getting up and leading him out of the room. He opened a door that ValJean had never been behind. Like the rest of the house, the master bedroom did not disappoint. Rich textured curtains reached to the top of the tall windows, where light peeked through the sheer panels, casting fading sunlight over a sleeping form he recognized as his daughter. She slept easily with deep restful breaths.

“She seems all right,” he murmured, more to himself than to Marius, stepping back into the hallway.

Marius sighed with relief. “Truthfully, between you and I, it wasn’t the cold that upset me. She always says that the children should sleep off their fevers, as it’s what their strong and daring grandpapa’s do. But, she seemed so sad to know that Javert was ill. I was worried that he was bedridden, but my aunt said that she saw him at his post on Monday.”

Brow furrowed in confusion, ValJean tried to put the man’s statement into perspective. “Do you mean to say she was upset when she left our home?” A chill raced through him as he recalled the concerns Javert had about Cosette.

Marius nodded minutely. “It is a bit of an old non-argument we have. Where I tell her that she should leave you alone and she says she will not.” At the aghast look on her father’s face, he continued, “I haven’t considered it seriously in many years. However, this time, when I gave her the bait, she swallowed it, stating that I was correct and that Javert told her as much.”

ValJean pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache started behind his ears. “He can be difficult at times.”

Marius snorted at the understatement. “Well, I’m sure Cosette will forgive him, as it is her way. But, I wouldn’t expect her to continue coming by when he is ill and you are not home. “

ValJean’s look pierced through Marius and the young man held up his hands. “Not that I would keep her away from you. But, simply that she may think twice about coming over.”

He lead ValJean back into the sitting room. “I fear that I have kept your family apart for too long,” Marius said after a long quiet moment.

“I do not understand,” ValJean responded into clasped fingers. His heart ached for his precious daughter. But, it broke for his companion. Both had always had a sense that love was conditional and nothing he did could ever fill that void. The two of them had argued and ricocheted off of each other over the years, but generally this issue had been the cause. He didn’t know how to tell Javert, or if he even should.

“Cosette often states that you should have a housekeeper. Perhaps if I paid for one…” Marius offered.

ValJean shook his head. “It isn’t about cost. We just don’t need a gossiping nag that won’t understand our lifestyle.”

Marius nodded. “Then I beg you to consider living here. Since grandfather died the house has been dreadfully quiet, even when the children are all home and inside. Truly we could give you a wing to yourselves. The children would love to have you and I believe it would help Cosette immensely.”

In his younger days, ValJean would have turned the offer down politely. But, he and Javert were no longer young. The fact that they were getting on in years was one that niggled through his brain more than most any other. What if one of them became seriously ill when the other was out of town or away? What then? “I will discuss it with Javert. I make no promises.”

He looked down sadly. Even through the hurt, a hurt that turned his own daughter away from their family, they were inviting them to live there. If Marius had not told him about Cosette heart-sickness, he never would have known. The truth filled him with guilt that threatened to leak from his mouth and his eyes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Quickly he whirled around and sneezed violently. Clasping his head in his hand, he gave Marius a breathless apology.

“Papa?” Cosette’s tired voice could be heard in the doorway.

ValJean had the instinct to flee. To run and tell Marius not to let on that he had been there. But, within moments a robe clad Cosette was stepping into the room. She smiled brightly when she saw him. “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice soft from sleep.

He was tempted to lie. But, he heard himself replying truthfully. “I may have caught Javert’s cold.”

She smiled gently. “I should not be surprised. How is he?” she asked, coughing lightly into a handkerchief.

ValJean’s look turned to one of concern. “Well enough,” he replied shortly. Javert would be cared for later. His daughter needed care in the present. “How are you.”

“Her- _chew!_ ” Her high pitched sneeze was unproductive and showed her doting husband that she was at the end of her ailment. “I’m getting better. I may have caught his cold as well. Chose to sleep it off, like some of my respected elders.” She smiled cheekily.

He closed his eyes and clamped his hand over his mouth. “Heh-ESSHH!” He sniffed thickly. “Like I should be,” he admitted.

Marius couldn’t help but wish that his father-in-laws suite was right up the stairs or right down the hall. The idea of the man going home on his own caused him to feel uneasy.

She mirrored his sympathetic look back at him and ran her hand down his cheek. No fever, yet. “Will Javert be home when you get there? Or, should we send for him to come here?”

“It’s only a cold,” he stated with the same tone that Javert had used.

“Of course,” she whispered. “You don’t need me either.” Were she not ill, she would never have said it. And, as soon as she did, she wished she could take it back. The man looked positively crest-fallen.

“It’s not that… I didn’t mean… Javert – Javert didn’t mean. Hah-ESSHHOO!” The thunderous sneeze exploded out of him, and sent his face crashing into a well timed handkerchief.

“It’s just a cold. I understand.” Her voice sounded hollow to her ears.

“Cosette, why don’t you ride home with your father? I’ll come get you tomorrow afternoon, or you can send word that you’ll need longer.” Marius smiled at her, certain that their ailments were getting in the way of true communication. The love between the two was obvious. And, no one could convince him otherwise of Javert.

She looked as though she was going to accept, but stopped herself. “Just take him home. We’ll get your team to you tomorrow,” she stated, rejection evident in her voice. Quietly, she turned and went back into her room.

“Well that was unexpected,” Marius said. He contemplated going in and letting her know how rude she was being. But, if after all these years, she was getting the feeling that she was not welcome in their home, perhaps she no longer was. And, that sort of issue was not something he was willing to step between.

*LES MIS*

ValJean was in the throes of a sneezing fit when Javert got home. Breath stole and eyes tearing he did not even notice the man until he felt Javert’s hand on his shoulder.

“You are unwell.” Javert’s voice was hoarse, betraying his own physical state. But, the hand of ValJean’s shoulder remained strong and steady.

“I believe I may have caught your cold. And I spent a bit of time outside today,” he replied breathlessly. He blew his nose vigorously and blinked hard against the dizziness that filled his head and tickled his throat.

“For that I am sorry. Should I send for Cosette?” He knew they could care for each other. But, he also knew how much his daughter’s presence meant to ValJean.

“She won’t come,” ValJean responded, glaring slightly at Javert. He did not want to take any of the current situation out on his companion. But, there was a certain reality of blame that needed to be sent his way. Whatever he had said to Cosette had hurt her greatly. Indeed it had hurt her enough to cast her away. And that was the hardest reality of all for him to face.

Javert’s breath constricted in his chest, forcing him to cough. “How could you say that? She adores you.”

“I saw her today. She is ill.”

At Javert’s stricken look he continued.

“She is sick of body and heart.”

“What did Marius do?” Javert thundered, making his way back towards the door. “I’ll kill him. Whatever he did to her -.”

“It wasn’t him, Javert,” ValJean called after him.

When Javert returned to the room, ValJean repeated it, albeit breathlessly. “It wasn’t Marius.” He coughed lightly. “I don’t know who started it – or what was said when she was caring for you. But, somewhere along the line, Cosette got it in her head that we didn’t want her anymore and that she is no longer welcome here.”

Javert felt as though his breath had been stolen away and he sank down, defeated, into a nearby chair. “I didn’t tell her that. I would never… never tell her that she wasn’t welcome. Or wan-ted.” His voice caught. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized that everything he had worked so hard to prevent had happened. His angel didn’t love him anymore. He was the devil and he had driven her light out of both his and ValJean’s life.

For the first time in many years, Javert started to cry.

ValJean was by his side in a moment, strong hands holding his shoulders as the man released the tumulus emotions inside him.

ValJean hushed him. “It’s all right, Javert. Her health will improve and she’ll be back. She hasn’t stopped loving us. She just…”

“Feels that I’ve stopped loving her,” Javert finished. He bent forward as the tears continued to pour out of him, causing hitching breaths that choked him when he coughed.

“That’s not what I was going to say. She’s just caught in a place of not wanting to bother us, but still caring. Why would you say that she thinks you don’t love her anymore? Is that what you told her?”

“No, never.” He couldn’t quite remember what he had said anymore, but he recalled that it wasn’t anything worth her getting so upset about. “And then I frightened the child and she’ll hate me…”

ValJean paused. He had not heard of any misdeeds against a grandchild, let alone one of the daughters. They were so small… Which granddaughter did you snap at?”

“No,” Javert said, wiping his eyes and trying to maintain some dignity. “The eldest son. He wanted me to play after Cosette had refused to see me. And… I scared him… I am a monster.” He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to keep the tears from running anew.

“Sometimes children are snapped at. You remember raising her. How many times did you snap at her?”

“Too many,” he responded bitterly.

“And yet she loves you all the same.”

“But, she will not come.”

“Children are remarkably resilient, Javert. You will see. Both of them will forgive you. In fact, I would be surprised if they haven’t already.

“And, yet, she won’t come,” Javert repeated, unwilling to forgive himself for his transgressions. They were the worst that he could think of and he wondered how long it would take for ValJean to choose Cosette over him and leave him as well.

*LES MIS*

 

Marius held the post in his hands and smiled warmly. True, he did not relish the idea of both of Cosette’s father’s being ill. But, the idea that they were both sick and asking for her care – in light of all that was going on – made him feel like they could get back to their normal lives soon.

“I’m not going,” she said, putting the letter on the table. She picked up her needlepoint and looked at it idly.

“Excuse me?” he asked, not certain that he had heard her correctly.

“We’ll hire them a doctor and we’ll talk about moving them in with us once they recover. It’s only a cold, Marius. They have been through considerably worse together. They don’t need me for this.”

“They’ve asked you to come, Cosette. What does this show our children?” he asked, his voice raising. “That they don’t have to listen to us when we hurt their feelings? That they can ignore us in our old age? By God, Cosette! See reason!” he implored.

“Papa?” a small voice asked.

Both adults paused as their eldest walked into the room. “Are our grand-pere’s all right? They haven’t been by in days. Is it… Is it because I upset Grand-pere Javert?”

“Come here,” Cosette said, holding her arms out to him. Taking his hands in her own, she squeezed them gently. “Now, when did you upset him?”

“When he stopped by a few days ago… I wanted him to play and he wouldn’t and I made him angry and he yelled at me.”

Cosette closed her eyes calmly, suddenly overcome with concern about Javert. First he upset his grandson and then her and now she didn’t want to come. She worried about how poorly he really was feeling if he could not even control his emotions. She recalled growing up with him trying desparately to control his emotions and how the control with her came easier over time.

“Do you think he still loves me?” a small voice asked. “I didn’t mean to upset him mama. And I’m sorry if I’m the reason you’re not talking with him now. I still love him very much.”

Cosette didn’t know if it was possible for an insecurity to be passed down between the generations. But, it seemed that she had passed her deepest fear onto her eldest child. “Of course he does.” She knew she couldn’t let her son live with the same fears she had her whole life. This had to be nipped in the bud. “Marius, will you drive us there? Then I’ll make sure they are well enough before bringing up other options.”

**LES MIS**

“Her-UFFCH!” ValJean sneezed into his tented hands. He sniffed thickly. “Pardond me,” he said stuffily, as he picked his handkerchief off of the arm of the chair. “Heh-UFFSCCHH!” he sneezed heavily into it. He knew that this was only a cold. Neither of them were particularly feverish. But they were both tired and symptomatic. Just enough to be miserable, but not enough for them to want to sleep it off or summon a doctor.

“Bless you,” Javert replied, looking up from his file. His voice was deepened with congestion and he looked sympathetically at ValJean. “I am sorry for making you ill.” He coughed against the gruffness in his throat.

ValJean breathed out a short laugh before knuckling against a tickle in his nose. “You know I’m too far passed being blessed. Heaven wouldn’t have me at this point.” His eyes were kind and gentle as he looked at his partner – the man who had hunted him across the country and he knew now would follow him to Hell and back, but for a different reason.

Javert looked aghast. “You - how could you say that?”

“Like any amount of good I do will make up for my breaking a Commandment. For lying to everyone for years. You… think of me should you make it to Heaven. Try to remember me fondly.”

“Jean…” he started. His heart was breaking. He had only ever heard his partner talk in such a way when he was deeply feverish. To hear him saying it when he was relatively well scared him.

A knock on the door caused them both to jump. “Leave them. They’ll leave a note. This … you are a good man. Look what you did for Cosette. Saving her. Saving me…”

“Papa, Javert are you here?” Cosette’s voice carried through the air like a bird on the wind.

“In the sitting room,” Javert rasped, coughing again.

ValJean stood up when Cosette entered the room. He blinked in surprise when Marius and their eldest son entered as well.  

After kissing her papa on both cheeks, Cosette tugged on his hands gently. “Can we talk to you for a moment?” she asked, so sweetly that he could hardly say no. Kneeling down she made eye contact with her son. “Go talk to Grand-pere Javert. I’m sure he would be happy to have your company.”

The young man looked at Marius for guidance, with uncertain, pleading eyes.

“Go ahead. We have to speak with Grand-papa Jean.”

The little boy shuffled into the room with tentative steps. His brown eyebrows were knit together as though he was pondering the wonders of the universe. Tentative blue eyes, the same color as his mothers, gazed at Javert as he stood there awkwardly, as though waiting to be chastised.

“Hur-ESSHCH!” Javert sneezed into tented hands.   He coughed wetly and blew his nose. “Excuse your old grand-pere, eh? I’m a bit under the weather.”

The little boy smiled a bit. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, but the words weren’t forming.   “Grand-pere, do you still love us?” a quivering voice, too young for the boy in front of him asked.

Javet felt as though his heart would break. What ValJean had said to him before was nothing in comparison. He sucked in his stomach, waiting for the rejection that he was certain would come from the boy before him. It was amazing. He could stare down hardened criminals, but the judgment of a small boy scared him nearly as much as the judgment of God. “Of course I do,” he answered, a bit more forced, a bit more loudly than he had intended. “How could you ask such a thing?”

“I beg your pardon. But, you… I made you angry and then you stopped visiting. I’m sorry if it’s my fault.” His voice trembled moreso during the last sentence. “I’ll never bother you again. Just don’t stop loving us because of me.” At that, hot tears started rolling down the little boys’ face.

A hand went over Javert’s mouth as he realized that this little boy, who had brought him so much joy, so much laughter, really doubted his love. “Come here,” he said, pulling the boy on to his knee. “Why would you think that I would ever stop loving you? That I would ever stop loving your family?”

“It’s not that you yelled at me. I can understand that. But, you used to say that you came by because you loved us. And then I annoyed you and you stopped coming.” Tears started to run anew and his chin trembled as he spoke. “I understand if you stopped loving me, but please don’t stop loving mama and the children. The kids are so small and mama loves you so much.   It can be our secret, but please don’t stop coming around because of me. You... don’t… You don’t have to see me…” With that the boy scrunched up his face as though willing the tears to stop would cause the tears to stop.

Tears lingered in Javerts eyes as he listened to the boy take blame for things that were not his fault, put his family before himself, and make a desperate plea for his mother. He wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, letting him snuffle into his shirt.

After a few hard breaths he took a deep one and pulled himself together. “I still love your family, your mother… and I still love you. I forgive you, son. Of course I do,” he said, his deeper than normal baritone rumbling gently. “Please forgive me for my trespass.” He was about to decide not to visit anymore. He had hurt his grandson. He had hurt his … well Cosette. He had become bitter in his old age and he wasn’t worth the pain he caused others. If ValJean was willing to put up with him, he would allow it. But, once he retired, he would stay in the house. Without other responsibilities he had no reason to leave the house anyway. But, if he caused more pain by not visiting, then he supposed he would have to continue his regular schedule.

“Of course I forgive you!” the boy responded, his face shining with delight. He wrapped his arms around Javerts neck and kissing him on the cheek.   When he pulled back, he looked at Javert critically. “You’re warm… do you have a fever?”

Javert huffed out a sneeze, caught in his fist. “Perhaps a bit,” he said. He was touched at how quickly the boy seemed to forget the hurt he had felt so strongly only a few moments before. He was like his mother that way.

The boy nodded. “Mama was sick for a while. Papa says something is wrong with her heart.”

“What?” Javert breathed. Panic filled him. He had not heard that she had been that ill. Perhaps that’s what ValJean had meant when he said that Cosette was sick of heart. Or what Marius had meant when he told ValJean.

“She took to bed… all she did was sleep and cry. Papa said her heart’s sick. I hope she gets better. I’ll miss her if she dies.” His little voice got very small.

Javert was aghast. Why didn’t he know that Cosette was that ill? Did ValJean know? If so, why hadn’t he been told? “I will do whatever it takes for that not to happen,” he promised, holding the boy close. “Now… no more tears. If your mama needs us, we’ll have to be strong for her.”

The boy slid off Javerts lap and wiped at his eyes. “No more tears from you either.”

“Huh-ERCCHSSHH!” The sneeze was thunderous and bent Javert at the waste. “Truly, I don’t think I have the strength for it.”

**LES MIS**

“You will consider the proposition, Monsieur?” Marius asked as he helped his son put on his coat.

ValJean cast a look at Javert. “We will consider it.” He swallowed thickly, feeling as though the next few days would be rocky at best.

Javert cast him a wary glance. Perhaps the young man was asking them for money… for Cosette’s heart. He looked at her critically. How had he missed that she was thinner? Her uncomfortable demeanor had relaxed, but she still seemed pale. Thank goodness for the honesty of children. Now that he knew there was a problem, he would do whatever it took to fix it.

A shiver ran through ValJean as the door was opened and closed. He pinched his nose closed and stifled a quick sneeze.

“Come on, papa. Let’s go to the sitting room. We’ll get a fire going and get you warm,” she said, taking his arm gently.

“Not as ill as all that,” he assured her.

“And, yet, you requested my help and so I will.” She wondered if he really needed it at all. She figured not. While the cold seemed to hit Javert worse, she was not surprised. He always was hit harder with the ailments of the house. But, he didn’t want her help either.

She lead the way to the living room, where she frowned slightly at Javert. He had a blanket over his shoulders and another over his lip. The man shook slightly, even still.

She breathed out lightly. She knew over the years that his wanting her around and his needing her were two very different things and they rarely were synonymous. If he wanted her to be there, the chances were high that he didn’t need her. If he needed her, he likely felt insecure and she was on a long list of people he would not want to see.

“How about I get you two some tea?” she said, as she deposited her father lightly in his chair.

“Cosette?” Javert’s voice was gruff, but commanding all the same.

She stopped, feeling her mind race as it did when she was a child. She felt as though she was going to be chastised. Likely for coming so late. For not staying until both he and her father were well. For not foreseeing that her father would become ill and that Javert’s illness would hit him harder, as it was wont to do.

“Cosette?” Her papa’s voice was strained, but the quiet gentleness brought her out of her thoughts just the same.

“Hm?” she asked, turning her full attention to him.

“Answer Javert,” he directed. Dark circles were forming under his eyes and she could see this cold was taking his strength out of him.

“I’m sorry Javert… could you repeat that?” she said, turning back towards the man.

“You would tell us if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?” he asked as gently as he could muster. He felt oddly vulnerable, being so caring. Cold prickled over his skin as the words of his grandson haunted him.

She looked at him oddly and then looked between the two men. “Of course I would – if it was anything the two of you could assist with,” she answered. “Now don’t you fret about anything. I’ll fix you both some tea and let’s see if we can’t warm you up properly.

“I didn’t like that answer,” Javert whispered, his hoarse voice filled with sadness.

ValJean only sighed in response.

 

** LES MIS**

“HurUMPchha!! Ugh, ah… HurUMPCH!” Javert sneezed, unexpectedly.

The three of them had tea, dinner, and dessert. They spoke about all of the children, Marius, and Javert’s retirement party. He had finally convinced her that a small family gathering from her would nicely counter the gala that the prefecture was planning. ValJean had gone to bed hours earlier, but Cosette’s answer from earlier still rang in his ears. That coupled with the plea from his eldest grandchild made Javert swim in his own guilt. He couldn’t put his finger on what he had done, but it must have been horrific.

Observant brown eyes looked down at a stomach that he didn’t remember being so soft. A firm hand rubbed over his beard, which had become more coarse and gray with age.   Never in his young life could he imagine that he would be in such a family. He worked hard over the past twenty-five years to make certain that he could maintain his place. No, that wasn’t right. He had been angry, judgmental, and hot tempered. He never thought he was deserving of children, but he had done his best to help raise Cosette. Apparently, he had gone wrong somewhere because both she and her eldest thought that he didn’t want them anymore. He had no idea how to fix this.

“Bless you,” she offered gently, as blue eyes looked at him quizzically. “This cold… it just won’t release its hold on you will it?”

Her tone reminded him of the way the nuns sang in church. Pure, innocent, genuine.

Suddenly she blinked rapidly and looked away. “My apologies, Javert. That was rude. I must be exhausted.”

He shook his head. “No apology necessary. You are right… I can’t seem to shake this.” He paused for a moment and started to rumble with laughter. “In my younger years, I never did get sick. I must be either very ill or very old.”

She gave him a comforting look. “You were always so intimidating… um intriguing. I loved watching you when papa would take me to town. I was always so proud. Papa was always so proud.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sure I was daunting – a young officer trying to make a name for myself. I’ve never been good with children. I was lucky that you were so good with me.”

Cosette felt herself choke up as she was hit by a rush of emotions that she had not felt since she was very young. She never felt like she was good with him. She learned to get used to the impatient sighs, the glares from across the room, the fights that he and her papa would get in because of her. She learned to be good to both of them and make certain that she didn’t exist as much as possible when it came to him. “I’m glad you felt that way,” she whispered.

“I still do,” he said gently. “Just that you are here… when…” He coughed harshly. When he caught his breath, he paused again. “When did it start, Cosette?”

Questioning blue eyes that seemed just a little too guarded looked at him. “What?”

So many questions ran through his head. “When did you start feeling that your place in our life… in … in my life… was conditional?” He seldom felt so vulnerable. He remembered nearly a decade before when she married Marius in order to get out from under their roof. He recalled the year before that, when she had gotten abducted because she thought he would send someone to take her away. Such knowledge stemmed from a deeper place, a darker place, a place he doubted even her father knew existed.

“Javert are you feverish? Are you feeling all right? Perhaps I should wake papa.”

Her deflection skills were good – the best.   He had known that for years.

“No. Tell me, Cosette.   What was it? What did I do?”

She sighed and tucked a lock of hair behind. “It’s no secret that you didn’t want me. You continue to say that you never expected to have children in your life.”

Javert snorted a bit as he tried to take a deep breath. He did say that – frequently. That he didn’t expect it to happen, not that he was upset that it did.  

She sighed. “The earliest I remember was when you and papa fought over me… over my…” She licked her lips. Sighing she continued. “I remember hearing the two of you fight over… something. It had woken me. Papa said that you knew that he had a daughter. And you… you said that he knew you were not good with children. His response was something like you had to get used to me because I wasn’t going anywhere. And you said…” Her voice had become thick with repressed tears. She remembered like it was yesterday, but she remembered it with a child’s comprehension.

“… that my life would have been better had you never been born. That your mother should have been a lady and kept to her womanly virtues because your life caused more harm than good…” he finished for her. He had remembered that fight, how angry Jean had been, how they had thanked their lucky stars for years that she hadn’t heard it.   It had been yelled in anger, in frustration, and in selfishness. And, now, at other end of his life, he knew that she had heard it and it had damaged her self worth irrevocably.  “My most sincere apologies,” he said, sniffling because of more than just his cold.   “You should never have heard that. Please let me explain. I was young and angry and confused… I … “ He breathed out, dejected. “I have no excuses,” he murmured.

He looked up when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Javert, I’m not upset with you. I stopped feeling hurt many years ago… and just strived to be… better… so you’d want me. Seems to have worked.” She smiled at him.

“I don’t love many people,” he said, staring straight ahead. “But, I love Jean and you and your children.” Even Marius was growing on him. He swallowed thickly. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” she offered gently. “I forgive you, Javert. I forgave you a long time ago.”

“But, you’ve always felt replaceable… like I would do whatever it took to get rid of you… like I still will.” At this he bent his head, leaning his forehead onto his palm.

Cosette rubbed his back gently. “Javert, I love you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have worked so hard to come into your favor.”

He nodded, reaching up to clasp her hand in his own. “I appreciate that. I know that I wasn’t easy to live with. Still not, I’m sure. But, you’ve been my angel for a long time… maybe since a year or two after that … that argument.” Tears started leaking from his eyes. _‘Curse this cold,’_ he thought. “You saved your father’s life, my humanity… I can never repay you for that. And, I can’t undo past hurts.”

“You don’t have to,” she whispered.

“What did I do to your son to make him think the same? I’ve always loved those children. Always… and he still thinks my love is conditional… and that he lost it.”

“Children get insecure sometimes. But, he loves you… they all do. And I do too.”

After a quick gulping breath, Javert composed himself. “Yes, I… thank you. Then answer me this. What is wrong with your heart?” A sniffle and a quick sneeze, stifled into steepled hands.

“My heart?” she asked, handing him his handkerchief. She leaned against the arm of the chair until he calmed down and then sat on the chair nearest him. “My heart is fine.”

“Your son said your heart is sick. Have you see any physicians… any surgeons?”

Cosette pinched the bridge of her nose. “My heart is fine. I was just sad for a few days… and sick. I caught your cold. But, as you can see, I’ve quite recovered.”

“HurEHCHOO-ah… EFFSCHH!” He quickly mopped up his nose and moustache.

“Bless you.” She smiled sadly. It seemed as though both she and her father would recover before Javert. She hated how ailments seemed to take so much out of him. She hoped that they would move in with her and her family soon. They could all gain so much strength from each other. “Perhaps I should take you to bed…” she offered when he had recovered.

“One more question,” he asked, looking at her as though he had just solved a cold case.

“Anything.”

“When you got lost coming home from the neighbors… just after that argument. You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

“I thought I could handle being on the streets … I learned a lot with the Thenardiers. And then I wouldn’t cause fights… and it would be like I was never born. But, oh Javert it was so long ago.”

The man’s face crumpled as she spoke. He was so foolish as a young man. He had done lasting damage to the woman he dared call angel. No matter how pious his life was, he knew he was not going to be admitted into the Kingdom of Heaven. “May I still call you my angel?” he asked, ready for the answer to be no. He never deserved to call her such a thing to begin with.

She knelt down in front of him. “Of course. I would be insulted if you were to do otherwise.”

A strong arm encircled her and held her close to his chest.

She did not try to pull back, instead taking in his scent and reveling in the rare affection. She felt his stomach tremble in and out as he tried to force himself to maintain. “It’s all right,” she soothed, as though she was speaking to one of her children.

“Yes,” he said into her hair. “I’m glad we had this talk, you and I,” he said as he pulled himself together. “You are always welcome here. Always.”

“I love you for that. I know it’s not easy to say.”

“Cosette, you are our daughter. I would never tell you that you can’t come home. In fact, I feel like I should say that you don’t have to be so proper when you do. We all know who each other is in this house. Just be yourself. I’ll love you all the same.”

She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. She was certain that the feeling wouldn’t last more than a few days, but for right now, she felt whole. She felt wanted.


	3. Considerations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean and Javert ponder the offer to live with Cosette's new family.

ValJean felt as though his head was filled with cement.  He was no stranger to illness.  Unable to avoid ailments as easily as his partner, he suffered from at least two fevers a year.  But, whenever he caught the ailment from Javert, it seemed even worse. 

He had been considering the offer from Marius and Cosette for them to live together.  It was true that they were no longer young.  It was true that they were getting more tired as the years went on.  But, he didn’t feel as though they were invalids.  He smiled as he thought of the joy being surrounded by Cosette and her family would bring him.  But, Javert… he couldn’t imagine the man deriving the same joy.

“Huff-Ek-SCHOO!” The sneeze propelled him forward and he misstepped coming down the stairs.  Strong arms shot out to the side as he tried to catch himself on the wall.  He slid down several stairs before sliding to a stop.  “Huff-Shhaa!  Ettchoo!”  The last two sneezes lacked velocity, but they made his head pound none-the-less.

He was vaguely aware of two sets of foot-falls.  One heavy and purposeful and the other quick and light. 

“Papa are you all right?” Cosette said, coming up the stairs and kneeling at the one below him. 

He sniffed wetly, knuckling at his nose as intense anxiety over sneezing on her filled him.  Hands pressed to his mouth, he sneezed wetly, bending forward as he did so. 

Gentle, experienced hands caught his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “You’re fever’s gone up,” she said gently. 

“Move.”  The deep voice behind her broached no space for conversation. 

She shuffled to the side and edged down the stairs, allowing Javert the room he needed to get by her. 

With a gentleness one who had seen him at work would never know he possessed, Javert maneuvered himself under ValJean’s arm and grasped him around the waist.  Both of their outside shoulders brushed against the walls around them, as Javert moved down one stair and encouraged ValJean to do the same.

The first step seemed all right, but ValJean paused, holding back a mighty wince when he tried to put weight on his other foot.

“Just what I was afraid of,” Javert stated.  He carefully maneuvered himself to the other side of ValJean and lead him down the stairs and into the sitting room.

While he lowered Javert into his chair, Cosette draped a blanket around his shoulders. 

“I twisted my ankle – not come down with some debilitating disease.  You don’t have to coddle me,” he stated irritably, as he shrugged off the blanket.

“I’m still going to look at your ankle.  Cosette, get ice from the chest,” Javert said, sitting on the ottoman and pulling ValJean’s foot into his lap. With deft fingers, he untied the shoe and pulled it off, careful not to jar the ankle. 

ValJean looked at him fiercely, eyebrows knit together as he repressed the pain.  He gasped out when the shoe came off, but Javert stuck to his work. “It’s strained at least,” he said, as he felt the puffy area around ValJean’s ankle.

A few deep pants and then ValJean turned away.  “Heh-ETCHHAA!”  The sneeze was caught in his handkerchief and yet felt like it leeched out all of his energy.  He coughed huskily.  “I am now certain that I caught your cold,” he mumbled at Javert.

“Yes… I … am deeply apologetic for that,” Javert stated tentatively.  He looked like he was about to say more when Cosette returned. 

“Here you go,” she said to Javert, allowing him to put the ice on ValJean’s ankle.  “Oh papa…” Her face fell.  “Would you like me to go get the doctor?”

ValJean winced as he moved his ankle a bit.  “It’s a bad sprain.  I’ve survived worse.”  He sniffed.  His nose tickled again.  Biting his bottom lip, he closed the handkerchief over his nose and mouth.  “Heh-Essshhpphhhh!” Airy and wet, the sneeze produced nothing but husky coughs at the end.

“Goodness, papa, don’t stifle them so,” Cosette said.  “That can’t make you feel better.”  She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

As if in response, he clamped the handkerchief over his nose and mouth.  “HARETCHHAA!”  The sneeze echoed in the room and made the crystal chandelier vibrate.

Cosette’s heart clenched.  She gazed out the window wondering how to point out that this was exactly why she and Marius wanted them to move in.  Her father was ill and injured and Javert was not known for his nurturing side – although she knew for a fact that he had one.

“Bless you,” Javert said, wrapping his ankle with the ice.  “Now you rest there and Cosette and I will fetch the doctor.”

“Not necessary.  I’ll be fine in a few days.” 

“Yes, well… I can’t have you injured at my retirement ceremony,” Javert said standing up.  He took Cosette’s elbow and lead her from the room.

 

“Look, I can ride my horse into town faster than you can drive the team,” Javert said, pulling on his riding jacket.  “Keep him warm and rested and off that leg at all costs.”

“Javert,” Cosette tugged on his arm and lead him into the kitchen.  She knew that she should wait for the two men to discuss the offer, but she couldn’t do it.  She knew that it wouldn’t take much convincing for her papa to move in with her family.  However, getting Javert to move in would be trickier.  She sighed and tried to find her courage.  She hadn’t been afraid of him since she was a little girl, but at this point she needed to word her thoughts carefully, otherwise she would hear from one that the other had died – sometime long after the time for goodbyes had passed.  If she didn’t do this properly, she would lose both of them.  “I’m concerned about papa… and you.  Marius and I both are.”

“It’s a cold, but I’m concerned about his ankle… it may be broken.”

“No,” she whispered.  “Not the ailment.  Not the right now.  The what about tomorrow?”  At Javert’s confused expression she continued, “Marius and I want the two of you to move in with us.”

“No.”  His response broached no room for argument.  He turned on his heel and went back towards the door.

“Javert, I really think it would be for the best,” she said, coming towards him.

“No.”  He stated again, buttoning up his coat and putting his hand on the door.  He didn’t want to hear it.  He didn’t need their charity.  _They_ didn’t need the charity.  They had been too much, done too much… they didn’t need to be taken care of – they didn’t need to be removed from their home. 

“Javert…” Her hand was soft on his shoulder.  “We want you to have your own wing – your own home in ours.  You don’t need to see us, but at least we’ll know if something happens to you.  We want to take care of you.  We want -…”

“And what about what we want?” he snapped at her. 

Although his voice was a whisper, the veracity with which he spoke told her that she had lost the argument.  If she was lucky, she would keep the friendship.  She doubted it.  He was mad and he did not suffer fools lightly.

“What if we don’t want to be kept men?  What if we have lived life to our retirement and want to do so alone and with each other, to be only with us in our old age?” 

“Then it’s your right of course.  I just wanted to …”

“That’s the problem with you and your husband’s type.  You just think about what’s right for you – not what’s right for everyone else,” he hissed, as he walked out the door.

“I came didn’t I?” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

But, Javert was already out the door, his boots clacking on the porch and down the steps to the pathway to the barn. 

She brushed the tears out of her eyes and went back to her papa. 

**Les Mis**

“Merely a sprain,” the doctor said closing his bag. 

Javert hung on the edge of his shoulder and sighed in relief.  “I shall walk you out,” he said, pulling out the doctor’s fee and paying him on the way out.

“Looks like you will be fine,” Cosette said, with a smile.  “I’ll remain through the end of your cold, but I think Javert will do fine caring for you beyond that.”

ValJean smiled warmly at her and pat the arm of his chair.  “What did I do to deserve such a daughter?” he asked, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

Cosette smiled brightly.  “You were a generous and loving father.  How else would I act?”

“Thank you for coming.  I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

They shared a loving smile. 

The moment was broken by the clacking of Javert’s boots as he walked in. 

Cosette smiled sadly at the man and stood up slowly.  “It’s been an exciting day.  I am going to retire early.”  As she walked past Javert, she placed a gentle hand on his arm and kissed him on the cheek so that her papa wouldn’t know anything was amiss.  Ill and injured, he didn’t need anything else to be worried about.

As Cosette kissed him, Javert felt as though his heart was breaking.  Guilt had crushed him as soon as he had rode away from the house.  The meaning behind her offer was kind and he knew that she and Marius made their offer with love.  With as large as that house was, they could certainly give them a wing which would give them enough privacy to live there.  The idea that he could not take care of his mate had wounded his pride and he had lashed out at her – again. Truly he did not deserve the loyalty of such a lady. 

He sat opposite ValJean and futzed with the wrappings around his ankle.  “I’m glad your ankle is not broken.”  It was a simple statement, but true none-the-less.

ValJean nodded.  “And I as well.  I do not heal as I once did.”  He yawned widely, causing him to cough huskily.

Javert sighed deeply.  “Cosette told me of her and Marius’ offer,” he blurted out.

“Ah,” ValJean said.  He wished she had not said anything as he was certain that the stress of being ill and having him ill and injured had set Javert on edge.  If he had not snapped at her, it was out of sheer love that he had been able to keep his temper. 

“Is this what you want Jean?” Javert asked.  “I know your family brings you great joy.”

ValJean sniffed thickly.  “None so much as you.  I doubt highly that you would be happy living in a house with so many children.”

“If we had our privacy, I could cope with it.”  Had Cosette not been there to care for her father, he would have needed to find a messenger… or called for her… or left him ill and injured and alone in the hopes that he would not injure himself further.  “We are getting on… and neither of us heals or gets well as quickly as we used to.”  Another deep breath.  “And if we were in the same house the children wouldn’t be without their mother whenever we needed her.”

ValJean gave his love a comforting look.  “You do not need to do this Javert.  I know it is not what you want.  We have looked forward to being alone with each other for a long time.”

“Yes.  But, times have changed…”

ValJean went to lean forward, which brought Javert to his side.  Pressing a gentle kiss to Javert’s lips he smiled when the man returned the sentiment. “Sleep on it, love.  Do not make any hasty decisions.”  He blinked rapidly, causing Javert to pull back thinking it was an impending sneeze. “What brought on your decision?  How did you respond when Cosette spoke of it?”

“Poorly, as always.  I accused her of horrible things.”

ValJean shook his head.  “I expected you would.  So did she, I’d wager.  Do not make this decision out of guilt.  Should you not wish it, it does not have to be.”

Javert gazed away for a few moments.  “She gave me a good night kiss, Jean.  Like nothing was wrong…”

ValJean nodded.  In truth it wasn’t that she had kissed him good night that surprised him, but that she gave him no indication that they had fought.  She had grown up much since she had become engaged.  “Is it something I need to fix?” he asked, used to bringing his daughter comfort after Javert’s lapse in temper.

“No,” Javert answered simply.  “I am the one who must fix things with her.”

“Don’t do it this way.  Don’t make yourself miserable to make her happy.  She’ll survive without it.”

Javert rubbed his hand against his forehead.  “Let’s get you to bed.  As you say, we’ll discuss it in the morning.”

**Les Mis**

Javert stood in the hallway, hand poised to knock on Cosette’s door.  He heard ValJean snoring, although it had taken quite some time for them to make him comfortable and keep his leg elevated.  He breathed out slowly.  Certainly no decisions would be made tonight.  And yet, he felt that he did not deserve sleep without Cosette’s forgiveness for his harsh and mean-spirited words.  Unlike the days of his youth, however, he couldn’t simply stay up all night.  His body was aging and it yearned for sleep.

He jolted awake, leaning against the wall.  He did not remember falling asleep and it was still dark.  His body felt sluggish and he felt as heartsick as he assumed she had when she did not want to come.  But, she came.  And she cared for both of them.  And, he called her selfish…

The tears and pleas of his eldest grandchild echoed in his head.  It didn’t matter what he did to try to stay his temper, he would make them all cry if they moved in.  He would terrorize the children.  He would terrorize Cosette.  It would only be a matter of time before Marius would protect his family and ask him to leave. 

Perhaps if they kept this home as a summer home of sorts… then he could live here and ValJean at their home.

He snorted and jolted awake again.  Asleep on his feet.  What a sorry state of affairs.  He used to be stronger – when he was younger. He started thinking of happier times; times when his temper did not get the best of him; when his pride did not make him volatile. There were less of them than he cared to count.  Again, guilt flooded his heart as he realized that he did not deserve such a family.

“Javert?” Cosette’s voice broke through his thoughts and he opened his eyes. When had they drifted closed again?  He looked at her, dazed.  His eyes caught light off of the moonbeams, that shone through her window.  “Are you ill?” she asked.  Her voice was sweet, concerned, as though he had never snapped, had never accused her of such heartless behavior.

“I am tired,” he admitted, his voice thick with sleep.

“Well no wonder, it’s nearly two in the morning.  Why are you out of bed?”  Her hand found his forehead, which was cool to the touch.

Weathered fingers pressed against his eye ridge.  “I cannot sleep.  I… I should not have been so cruel to you.  It is evident to me that your intentions are well meant.”

“You are concerned over nothing.  I did not expect the conversation to go well.  And you are correct, I did not ask you – or papa – what you wanted.  Merely stated what we thought would be best.  You are grown men and if you wish to live on your own, who are we to stop you?”

“Your intentions are good and the logic is sound.  I just… look what I do to you… make you cry, make you feel bad.  Look what I do to your children… make them fear and doubt.  Can you imagine what being in my presence regularly would do to them?  Look what I did to you.”

“Go to sleep.  Say no in the morning.  I will never ask again, although the offer will always be open.”  She stood up on her tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek.  “Now go rest with papa.  I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for another day or two.”

His arm encircled her and he pulled her close.  The second arm wrapped around her as well.  “Not stuck,” he whispered to her.  “You are not a burden, Cosette.  I am lucky to have you.”  He stated the ‘I’ in a pinched tone, which indicated that he was having difficulty maintaining his emotions.  “ _We_ are lucky to have you.”

She wanted to ask if he was ill again, but she had felt his forehead and it had been of a normal temperature.  She hugged him back and buried her head into his chest.  “It’s all right, Javert.  I have you.  You’re not a monster.  And, I wouldn’t have you any other way than what you are.  The children would adapt.  And you and I have lived together before.  Don’t feel pressured.  I’m sorry for not thinking of your needs, wants, or desires.”  She pulled back slightly.  “Now go to sleep.  I will see you in the morning.  There is no grudge or any hard feelings to get through.  You just give me your answer and we’ll move on as though I was never so foolish as to try to push you into something you don’t want to do again.”

Why did everyone think he didn’t want this?  Why were both she and ValJean so certain that he would turn down the offer?  He needed to think and he only had a few precious hours to do it in.

**Les Mis**

When Cosette came into the kitchen Javert was already there sipping coffee.  The man looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and was blinking unevenly.  Knowing the previous day had given him more stress than was healthy, she walked up to him slowly.  She had startled him once when she was a young teenager and received a swat across the face for it.  He had felt terrible, of course, but she learned to approach him with the upmost caution when he was in this state.

“Cosette.”  The word was whispered, exhausted.  But, it let her know that he knew she was there.

With cautious steps, she approached him and sat down next to him.  “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Your son thought I had stopped loving him.”  The words were spoken plainly, but there was an ache in the words.

“He knows you love him.  He was simply scared that you would stop,” she said gently.  “Apparently, he has observed me when I thought I was being subtle.  I will do better not to let him see me upset or in any way implicate you in it.”

He nodded once.  “You think my love is conditional.”

“No…” she breathed.  “But, I know you are not one to suffer fools lightly.  And, I was quite the fool yesterday.  Please forget I said anything.”

“No…” he breathed.  “The offer was just and good.  I just have doubts as to if being around children all the time will be good for me.  And I worry that my… reluctance to be around them will cause them to have the same insecurities you do.  He shook his head.  I don’t want to cause anyone else any more pain.  I just wish to retire in peace.”

“Javert, look at me please,” she said, her voice that of a stern parent and not the child whom he had helped raise.

He looked at her, revealing dark circles under his eyes. 

She placed her hand upon his wrist.  “We wish for you to have a peaceful retirement as well.  And, while our home may be a bit more rambunceous than you’re used to, you are really free to simply live in your suites and only see the family when you please.  But, do not take my offer as one that my love is contingent on either.  Should you refuse, I will still come out to help you two whenever you need.  I am still your daughter.”

He placed his hand on top of hers as a wave of a mixture of shame and humility washed over him.  That such a God capable of great anger and wrath could balance with such love and acceptance.  He had lived the bulk of his life without the understanding that this very moment brought. 

“I am undeserving of such acceptance.”

The sound of husky coughs wafted down the stairs and a violently wet sneeze punctuated the end, echoing even in the room they were in.

Two pairs of concerned eyes turned towards the hallway.

Cosette glanced at Javert.  His dark eyes squinted with concern.  His eyes, so heavy with the loss of sleep were underlined with circles so dark that it looked as though he had been in a fight.  He wheezed on each breath, but suppressed the coughs that tried to work their way out.  “And that look, right there, says that you are not undeserving,” she stated, her voice low yet poignant. 

Again, that feeling of shame and humility washed over him.  For someone so young to feel like she understood him was almost comical.  If she knew – if any of them did – what he had done in his younger years, who he had been… He sighed, shakily.  “Thank you, angel.  My angel.  He rubbed a hard knuckle into his eye.”

“Go to sleep Javert.  Rest.  I’ll be up shortly with tea and something light for you two.”  When he was almost out the door she called to him. 

He paused in the doorway, back to her.”

“I’ll always be your angel.  You can’t do or say anything to change that.  Even if you stay here.”

“Why?” he asked gruffly.  He turned to face her, noticing a darkness in her features.

“I’m a fallen angel.  If you can find beauty in knowing who I really am – what I was really born to… I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

“No… you’re a raised angel.  Risen from ashes. Like a phoenix.”  He coughed gruffly.  “Pardon,” he said through a wide yawn.

She poured some coffee for herself and a pot of tea for the men.  “Allow me the honor of escorting you to bed.  Sleep.  Give me your answer when you awaken.  Remember, either way, I will love you.”

He laughed bitterly, but nodded. 

“Look who I found,” she said as she followed Javert into the room.

“You’re ill again,” ValJean said after one look at Javert.

“Hardly.  I just considered Cosette and Marius’ generous offer.”

ValJean sighed deeply.  “Cosette how I wish you didn’t say anything.”

“No, Jean.  She spoke with love and the offer was pure.” He dressed into his shift as though Cosette wasn’t in the room, causing her to turn away quickly.  “Forgive me, Cosette.  I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said coming to his side of the bed. 

“Nor did I,” she said with a smile.  She tucked him in gently and didn’t bother pouring him tea, as she watched his eyes drift closed.  “Papa, do you want to come downstairs with me?” she asked, pulling his cane from the closet.

“I’m afraid I’ll use the wrong words today.  We know how I get.”  He looked lovingly at his sleeping partner.  “What if he’s not the one unfit to be around children all the time?  What if I hurt them?”

Cosette bowed her head.  “Papa, the children get chastised and corrected.  I don’t know why you think you’re such a harsh person.”

“Because the words I have for you right now are not kind.”

“I know my timing was incorrect.  I apologize.  And, I apologized to Javert.  You two just have to say no and I’ll never ask again.”

“Then no,” ValJean answered, although his heart nearly cleaved in two to do it.  “He doesn’t wish it and neither do I.”  The shame of the lie filled him as he watched her smile at him sadly. 

“Then it’s done.  The offer stays open, but I’ll never mention it again.”

“This family could be so lucky,” he said as husky coughs worked their way out.

Her father was cruel when he was sick.  The higher the fever the crueler the words.  Perhaps it was best that they turned it down.  She wasn’t certain that she could handle knowing that her daughters would get snapped at by a man they knew only as kind.  Perhaps it was best that the worst of his traits only be bestowed on her.

She smiled sweetly and poured him tea.

“Cosette, I didn’t mean that.  That was cold and uncalled for.”

“It’s all right,” she said a little too brightly.  “Drink your tea, take a rest.  I’ll be downstairs should you need me.”

The tone hiding the pain she knew she was feeling shamed him further and he regretted his answer and his words as soon as the door closed behind her.

Both men slept through lunch, so Cosette prepared an early light dinner.  Javert was much more awake and much more like himself when he awoke – as was her father.  Javert helped him downstairs and they sat and spoke with Cosette as she finished dinner.  This was what he wanted.  The sound of laughter in the house.  The loving looks that everyone gave each other.  He wanted to be part of the third generation.  He wanted his grandchildren to know that he wasn’t just a horrible monster that made their mother cry.  He wanted to play.  “Cosette,” he said, interrupting the conversation.

“Hm?” she asked, trying to stay the chuckling that she was just doing. 

“We would love to take you up on your offer of habitation with your family.  We’ll keep this house as a summer home and we’ll make it work.”

Silence filled the room, as Cosette looked hopefully at her father.  “You changed your mind?” she asked, the hint of a smile tickling the edges of her lips.

“Uhm,” ValJean said, trapped. “Javert are you certain?” he asked. “I had already declined the request.” 

“I have never been more certain.  Unless you don’t want it,” he said turning to ValJean.

“Of course I do.  Cosette… I….”

“Done,” Cosette said, cutting off what she was certain was an apology from her father.  “Well move you in after the retirement party.”


	4. A Happy Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family enjoys some time together - without anyone being sick.

Cosette sat by the fire, eyes closed, feeling the heavy, almost sleeping weight of her youngest in her arms.  The air was filled with the rich sounds of violin playing, a sound that had been sorely lacking since Marius’ grandfather has passed away some years before.  The child shifted in her arms, and she held on a little tighter, softly humming the counter-tune to the one her father was playing.

‘Something from my childhood’ was what he had called it when she asked what it was when he was younger.  Since then, he only ever played when he was happy.  She realized long ago that stress made him too distraught to concentrate on the finer points of playing the instrument well.  

Javert smiled at the scene before him.  His companion deftly playing the violin, something that he rarely did over the past twenty years, while his child and grandchildren were gathered around.  The older children watched with rapt attention as their Grandpapa, who they had known their whole lives surprised them with a talent that he rarely showed anyone.  The younger children had clamored into their parent’s laps and fallen asleep, as their parents took a well-deserved break and rested their minds. 

He looked down and fiddled with the hem of his jacket.  For years he had complained to Jean that he had not wanted to be a father.  He had not wanted to help raise a child.  And, in many ways, he had not.  He did not brush her hair or help her with social issues.  He did not encourage her when she tried to learn to play piano.  Nor did he encourage her when she wanted to get married.  True, he cared for her when she needed him.  But, if his presence was not absolutely necessary, he mostly ignored the fact that without ever meaning to, he had become a father of sorts – whether it had been his intention or not.

Now he was surrounded by not just ValJean’s family, but his as well.  A family life, something that he had so actively not sought to have, had found him anyway.  A family full of love and acceptance.  His gaze turned to Cosette as she started humming the counter-melody to the song her father played. 

He remembered darker times.  Times when he had tried to terrify her.  Times that he had succeeded.  He thought about the comment that she never should have heard.  And the time she thought he had sent someone to take her away.  The latter made his skin crawl.  He was honored to call her a daughter – call this his family. 

He was happy.

He smiled at his companion, who he noticed had been looking at him, with concerned, searching eyes.  

Javert nodded once and looked back over the family. 

“Grandpapa, can you play a gavotte?” the oldest girl child asked.

Javert bit his lip.  ValJean had little time to keep up on the latest dances, at least not to play them.  And he seldom had cause to.  The music he played brought him to simpler times.  Though, Javert dared not think they were happier.

“I’m afraid the only gavottes I know are very old,” ValJean explained.  “Would you still like me to play one?”

“If it’s very old, I can’t dance it,” she said with the matter of fact tone of a child.  She turned to her mother.  “Is this one from your youth?”

Javert couldn’t help but smile a bit.  The statement imitated her deceased grandfather down to the inflection. 

Inquisitive eyes looked at her papa, who played a few bars.

“I have not danced that since I was a little girl,” Cosette answered.  “I could not remember it well enough to teach anyone.”

“I can,” Javert rasped.  His throat suddenly felt inexplicably dry.  He had not done the dance since he was in the military and even then it was by a fluke that he had learned the dance at all.  He remembered it though, having used it as a base for all other dancing that he and Cosette had done since.

The room had gone dead silent, even the children looking at Javert in an inquisitive way that made him extremely uncomfortable.  He stood up stiffly, making hard eye contact with Cosette. 

Without a word, she placed the sleeping child on the couch and sat back down.  She had danced with him many times over the years, but if this was going to be done in front of the children, they would have to show them how to properly dance – which included the asking.

Luckily, Javert understood what she was doing and walked up to her with a smile.  After a deeply respectful bow, he held his hand out to her, which she took and then curtsied to him.  A nod to her papa and the dance started.  The two bodies moved in perfect motion with each other, Cosette pointing her toes excessively as she danced to the memory of being a little girl pretending to be in heels; Javert moving with the stiffness of military precision.  She gasped in surprise when she forgot a step and he wrapped an arm around her waist to turn her to where she should be.  He smiled gently, eyes shining with joy seldom seen by anyone other than ValJean. 

They were happy.

When the dance ended, he kissed her hand politely and walked her back to her seat.  “And that is how you properly dance with a lady,” he said to the boys, as though they had asked a question.

Marius smiled warmly at his new family.  Truth be known they were Cosette’s family, but they had accepted him readily, even Javert.  He had been surprised by the latter, what with him being in the revolution and Javert’s station authority within the constabulary.  His thought flit to the weeks after their wedding, when he had been so guilt ridden about the way he treated her father.  No matter what the man had called himself, he was no convict.  In fact, he was one of the most honest and trustworthy men Marius had ever met.  Besides, a convict could never partner with Javert the way ValJean had. 

ValJean.  The name was still foreign to his mind, and he preferred to call the man Madeleine.  In fact he did so frequently enough for his eldest to ask why he and Javert called their grandpapa by different first names. He had skirted the question by saying that Jean was a special name that the older man only afforded in private.  But, since Marius and he often ran in the same professional circles, he didn’t wish to confuse himself with two different names.  He wondered how long such a lie would keep.

Javert could feel himself start to shake as he sat back down.  His stomach did flips and tightened uncomfortably.  Dancing with Cosette was always a joy of his.  But, dancing in front of people was not.  Dancing where he could make a fool of himself was not a joy.  He felt a cold sweat break out.  He had done well and only mis-stepped a few times, which he doubted anyone noticed.  Even if Jean had, his overinflated sense of allure towards Javert would make him think that the mis-steps made Javert human or handsome or some other such nonsense.  Although Javert knew he shouldn’t complain, not even to himself.  Those feelings are what kept Jean thinking he was worth keeping around.  It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was.

Brown eyes locked on brown eyes as he realized that Jean was watching him, gently caressing his face with those eyes that held so much love and concern.

Javert crinkled his forehead in confusion as he watched Jean put away his violin and stretch as though he was weary.

Ever the kind hostess, Cosette placed a gentle hand on her papa’s shoulder and dropped a kiss on his cheek.  “It is about time to retire,” she said.  “All right young ones, hug your grandpapas.” 

With a few groans, the children did as they were told, giving long lingering hugs to ValJean and less clingy, but just as tight, hugs to Javert.

She lifted the sleeping child into her arms and came over to Javert.  Pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, she whispered, “Thank you. I know that was not easy for you.”

He gave her a weary smile and kissed her on the cheek.  It was not something that he had done very often and earned him a surprised look and a smile.  He sighed a bit at the surprised look; it was not fair to her that she had come to not expect affection.  He knew it was the way he had raised her, but his heart still felt heavy about it.  At least her children would not know him as an introverted monster – he hoped.

As the two men retired to their wing, Javert smiled as ValJeans fingers entwined with his.  

“That was a very sweet thing for you to do for Cosette,” ValJean said, his low baritone rumbling softly as he latched their door.j

“Kindness had nothing to do with it.  It was an important lesson for the children to learn.  Besides…. I always did enjoy dancing with Cosette.  She’s very good at making me feel competent.”

“It helps that you are a competent dancer,” ValJean complimented.

Javert shook his head a bit, but said nothing.  He didn’t feel competent.  He was fairly certain that he could make a fool of himself given half a chance. He laid down on the bed and outstretched his arm, enjoying the heavy warmth of ValJean when he lay next to him. He was done talking.  He didn’t want to discuss his dancing.  He didn’t want to talk about where he was when he had learned that particular dance.  Some demons were better left in the past.  The nightmares that were going to happen that night would tell enough.

ValJean smiled at Javert.  He could tell that the kindness would only be extended to Cosette and had worn his partner thin.  As much as he had enjoyed the evening, he needed to just be quiet for a bit. Leaning over, he kissed Javert on the cheek and blew out the candle.  Rolling a little close to Javert, he closed his eyes and let the gentle sleep overcome him.


	5. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert & Cosette share a secret in the night.

The inky black of night surrounded him as Javert sat up swiftly.  He gulped air and turned towards the window, but there was no moonlight.  Hawk-like eyes shifted through the darkness, bouncing from wall to wall, until he found the window – quite where it was not supposed to be.  He cast his eyes towards the fireplace, cold and dark. 

Sweat rolled down his face as his hand moved across the bed until he found the sleeping form of ValJean.  Anger coursed through him – he was sleeping next to a criminal.  Oh how the mighty had fallen.  He could arrest him…

The sleep shifted in his mind. 

Why was ValJean asleep?  He always awoke when Javert had a nightmare. 

His hand continued to move tentatively across the bed until it rested on the back of his companion.  His heart thudded in his chest, closing his throat and deafening his hearing.  He knew that the man was a good ten years older than him – at least.  Death was only thought of during outbreaks of disease or in the inky blackness of night. 

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he realized that the room was not completely dark.  In fact, there were candles burning in the hallway.   But, that shouldn’t have been.  The house should be dark, quiet.

He tilted his chin down and closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds around him.

“Javert are you all right?” Valjean’s voice cut through the silence.  Sleep had lowered the register and delayed his words. 

“Yes of course,” Javert answered too swiftly. 

“Nightmare?”  ValJean had not moved, proving that he was more asleep than awake. 

“I’ll be back,” Javert answered, grunting as he swung his legs out of the unfamiliar bed and slipping into his robe.  It had been about two months since they moved in with Cosette and her family.  The months had gone better than he had anticipated, primarily because they gave him a study of his own to retreat to. 

As soon as he opened the door, he was hit by a gust of cooler air.  He would never understand how the hallways in such a large house could be drafty in the sweltering heat of summer.  But, there it was – just one more thing that he would never understand.   Chin tilted down, he focused on the noises he was hearing again. At first, he had thought that some of the children were out and about.  But, then he realized that it wasn’t the case at all.  Rather, people were… talking… perhaps.  Perhaps Marius was having a private meeting or gathering with his colleagues.  But, as the clock struck three in the morning, Javert found himself hoping that it wasn’t the case at all. 

He followed the soft sounds until he came to the dining room, where he saw Cosette, wrapped in her sleep robe, her long golden tresses done up in curlers under her sleep cap.  She was sitting, curled up on the chair as though she were still a young girl, and not a wife and mother. She was crying, sobbing to herself.  A teapot and cup of tea were set out before her and he glowered at the thought of the servents serving and leaving her in such a state.  Where was Marius?  What had he done?

Unwilling to simply surprise her, he clasped his hands behind his back and cleared her throat.

She sniffed, tears stilling instantly as her eyes snapped up.  A soft smile came over her features as she moved the teapot and cup back.  She unfurled herself and stood in his presence.  “Javert!” she exclaimed, taking a moment to compose herself.  “Are you all right?”  She started to come towards him, but his raised his hands slightly and came towards her instead.

“Cosette…” his voice was raspy.  The heat and dampness in the air was oppressive, but he barely noticed.  His angel was crying.  He had to know why.

“I’ll get you a cup for tea.  I shall return in but a moment.”   She went to brush past him, but he caught her arm, tugging her back gently.  He recalled a time many years before when he had realized that she truly was a woman of culture.  She was able to put her papa and his needs so far before her own that she hid in a web of deception in order to make certain no one saw her issues for what they really were. 

Not that she was a villainous girl by any stretch.  Piety the likes of which he had never seen oozed from her every pore.  She was patient, kind, and strong.  But, she could also be vulnerable.  She was born out of wedlock to a mother who couldn’t care for her, put into a home with people who beat and otherwise abused her, lived on the run from country to country, and –later- was abducted and had her life threatened.  She had spent a lifetime covering – or perhaps repenting – for these realities.  But, that didn’t mean they did not exist.  It did, however, mean that she could not talk to people when her demons weighed on her mind. 

“Stay,” was his quiet, yet insistent demand.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head forward a bit while she felt his forehead for a temperature.  He had no idea how she would be able to tell if his was overheated because he was hot or overheated because of a fever, but she had been a caregiver to he and her papa before she was a wife and mother.  He had no doubt that she had caregiving skills beyond what he could comprehend.

“Are you all right,” she asked, pulling a chair to sit beside him.

“Yes,” he answered with a curt nod.  “I-I… just…”

“Nightmare, hm?  I understand.  I have those myself.”  She stilled as though she had just said something incorrect.  With a quick smile, she pulled over the teapot and her cup.  “Are you certain that you do not wish to have a cup.  It will only take a moment and I-I know how much a spotta tea will help in the wee hours of the night.”

He grabbed her wrist as she tried to leave.  “Cosette… why are you crying?”  His tenor voice had deepened with age and in his rare moments of tenderness, it deepened even still as he tried to be quiet and tender.

She sighed.  “There are nights when I can tell I’m going to have nightmares of memories that used to be.  Those nights I cry until I’m too tired to dream.”  Her brow creased as she watched a deep frown cross his face.  “Javert, it’s nothing to concern yourself over – I’ve done it for many years now.”

His frown deepened even more.  “What memories cause you such pain?”

Knowing the question was less about the memories and more about him asking what he had done to hurt her, she shook her head slightly.  “It’s nothing.” 

“Cosette, please.  Please let me care for you the way you care for others.”  His own nightmares brought him deep shame.  He recalled the first time he had woken Cosette when she was but a child.  Shame washed over him as he remembered the swift, threatening movements he had made in her direction as he shouted at her just because she asked if he was all right the following morning.  He had been so foolish to behave that way to a girl who had been abused at the hands of the Thenardier’s.  She never asked about his nightmares again.  He had made so many mistakes with her.

“Do you recall Raoul?” she asked, knowing that he likely would although none of them would want to.

“Of course,” Javert replied without thinking, “he’s been my second in command for years.”  He watched her flinch and turn her face away.   Suddenly, he felt as though a large stone had settled in his stomach.  His eyes closed slowly as he realized that wasn’t who she was talking about. 

He released her wrist and let her retreat to the kitchen.  Shame washed over him as he mentally kicked himself for not immediately realizing what Raoul she was speaking of. He and her father had moved on with their lives, slowly allowing the issues of the past to fade.  Cosette had put on such a good act of recovery that he never even thought on it anymore.  The idea of his angel crying herself to sleep or not sleeping at all, while the house slept on, while her father slept on, while _he_ slept on… it was unacceptable. 

“Cosette, it’s not the same person,” he said, as she placed a cup in front of him and poured the tea.

“Of course it’s not,” she said, her voice schooled to perfection.  She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “It’s not your fault you forgot Javert.  I gave you no cause to remember.”

Her absolution of his memory did not help stay his guilt.

“Purposefully.  You never brought it up, purposefully.”

“Of course!” she said, with a little laugh.  “I couldn’t bring that up to you.  Make the two of you relive the horror and over… it wasn’t your horror to live. “

Cold shot through him as he remembered the terror he had felt at the prospect of losing her. He and ValJean had been ill for weeks and she had cared for them diligently, until she disappeared into the night – under his watch.  How could he have moved on from such a thing?  He should have checked on her every day – even after her marriage.  Maybe especially so.

“I, of course, can’t discuss it with Marius, and most nights aren’t bad.  But, sometimes… I don’t know… something reminds me of the experience or him.  And… I just can’t sleep.”  She huffed out a dark laugh.  “Once, I woke Marius with my shouts… I told him I felt as though I was drowning… the truth… and that I couldn’t swim.  That summer, we went to the beach so many times so that I could acclimate to the water, that I thought I was going to grow gills.” 

“I didn’t forget,” Javert assured her.

“I don’t doubt that you recall the instance.  But, I’m glad you were able to trust another Raoul.  I haven’t been so lucky.  I have trouble with time… every time I look at the clock and it happens to be two forty-six, I feel that fear that I was going to die, alone… forgotten.”

The last word caused Javert to sit straight up. There was something about that which had never sat right with him.  “Now, Cosette, I remember at the time, you had not thought we would come for you.”

“True,” she said, taking a sip of her tea.

“Why?  What did we do that made you think that we would be happier without you… that we wouldn’t come?”

“Father had made it clear that you were more important in his life and that he loved you more.  He told me during his choleric fever that it was time for me to move on, but I couldn’t because I hadn’t courted.  I just wanted you two to be happy.  But, if I didn’t get courted, I could turn out being an old maid – a financial burden and a trespasser in your home long after my welcome was worn. “

“Cosette,” Javert tried to interject, but she continued on.

“I couldn’t let that happen.  Not to two such loving, giving men.  You deserved every ounce of happiness and if my absence – if my death – was what needed to happen, then I was going to give it willingly, freely, just as you two had always given to me.”

“Your father… he had a dream that you had killed yourself… during that time…”  Javert’s heart ran cold.  He didn’t want to know if she would have done it.  He didn’t know if he was asking a question of making a statement.

“No, I would never turn my back on God so completely.”

Relief swept over him.  “You know, it hurt your father and I when you didn’t think we’d come.  That you thought we would rejoice in your absence.”

“In hindsight, I can see how that would be.  And, you must believe that I never meant to cause you pain.  But… but then… papa… I don’t know.  It doesn’t always make sense now.  But, I know I believed it then.”

Javert took a long sip of tea.  He remembered how precarious he thought his place in the house was at the time.  He never would have dreamed that a decade later they would be sitting in her house – no their house – discussing the incident into the long hours of the morning, over a spot of tea. 

“Now, tell me what troubles you, Javert?  What has you up this late?”

He breathed out sharply.  “Old cases… old foes… lost foes… things you shouldn’t have to worry over.”

“I do worry about them.  I worry about you.  I hear you up at night – pacing.  I walk by your door when I am awake, and you’re always about.”

He pressed a few fingers over his eye.  “You shouldn’t.  It’s nothing that can be done about these criminals.  I spent a lifetime hunting them, guarding them, bringing them to justice.  And now they haunt my dreams.  Clues come together about cases I haven’t thought of in years.  It’s like my mind won’t stop thinking on it, even though I’m no longer part of it.”

“Perhaps especially still,” Cosette mused.  She had often worried about him.  The man had worked hard all his life to provide for himself and then for his family.  She couldn’t imagine that sitting at home with her and the children was much of a life for him.  Even with her papa now retired, she couldn’t imagine that the two of them were not eminently bored.  “So tell me something about your past, Javert.  Tell me something about a case or a criminal.  Something exciting.”  She tucked one leg beneath her and leaned in interestingly.

“Truly, that is not an acceptable conversational topic for a lady to hear.”

“Please,” her tone was pleading.  “Please prove to me I’m not the only one with the darkness of memories in my head.  If anyone would understand, you would.”  She gasped and brought both hands to her mouth.  “I’m sorry, Javert.  That was too bold.”

He waved her off with a brush of his hand and a shake of his head. “In the darkness of night is when the nightmares rule.  They seep out of the dark crevasses where they lie dormant until finally they get to wreak havoc on our minds. “  His voice was dark, as though he was beginning to tell a tale of murder, mystery, or suspense. 

She realized in a harsh moment that it was likely he was going to tell just such a story – but it was from his own mind.  And, in that, she knew she had to be gentle and then hold those stories tighter than she would even hold her own.   

“This… recurs. I am drowning after having fallen into the Seine – from the bridge. I grapple with a convict as we both fall, but he rises above as I sink… Swimming to the top the convict is free… I see him break the surface and the moonlight bathes him. “  A quivering breath.  “This time I kicks, I pulled towards the surface.  It’s not the way it really happened though.   I nearly drowned that night.  I don’t know what ever happened to the convict. “

“Who pulled you out?” Cosette asked, horrified.  She had long since learned that Javert did not care for the beach or swimming in general.

“My – um…” he cleared his throat so harshly it made Cosette wince.  “My superior.  I was trainee back then.   We lost the convict because he saved my life.”  He paused before adding, “I’ve often wondered how many other lives were traded for mine.”

“Javert…” she said gently, reaching across the table to brush his arm lightly. 

He pulled it away in a jagged movement and then laid it back where it had been.  Jean was the only person he had ever told that too and while he didn’t expect Cosette to push him away, he did not want to be coddled either.

“Well, I’m rather glad he saved you,” she offered with a smile. “You’re one of the best officers France has ever seen.  And, you’ve enhanced my life in ways that I’m afraid I can’t adequately verbalize.”

“Stop, Cosette,” he instructed.  “I don’t want your pity.”

“That’s good because I’m not giving it to you.”  Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were strong.

A creak in the hallway caused them both to pause.

“Who’s there?” Javert called, a little too shakily, a little too loud.

Jean held his breath and hoped that he hadn’t ruined a very precious moment.  He had realized that Javert was out of bed longer than usual when he had a nightmare and went looking for him.  Never in all of his years would he have assumed that Javert had decided to take comfort in Cosette.  There was a solace that they had found in each other.  One that he had worked his entire life to pave the way for.  He hoped they would have more nights like this.  While he had enjoyed being the only person Javert went to, the man deserved to know he had a stronger support system.   Perhaps Javert would find his peace yet.

After a moment, Javert shrugged his shoulders.  He felt himself grow tired again and his shoulders slumped forward.

Cosette smiled softly.  “Go back to bed.  I’ll clean up here.”

Javert focused on her intently.   “You’re not going back to bed, are you?”

Her eyes focused on a point far ahead.  “No,” she whispered, her voice barely balancing on the air.

Javert closed his eyes as he tried to think of the exact right thing to say.  He had never been one for comforting words.  Rather, that was Jean’s position.

He opened his eyes and looked at her intently.  “Cosette, I will never let him hurt you again.”  It was an easy promise to make.  But, apparently, the fact that the man was dead was not a comfort to her. 

As she looked at him and saw the honesty in his statement. 

For the first time since her marriage had begun, she climbed back in bed after she had left it.  As she blew out the candle – unbeknownst to her – Marius smiled.


	6. Allergies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of sneezefic fluff, wherein Javert's allergies are acting up.

Javert’s eyes drifted shut in the sweltering late summer heat.  Worse than the drowsiness that followed was the pollen that seemed to settle in the air rather than on the ground.  Ever aware of every fiber of his being, he had always worked hard to keep himself in check.  As a young man he had gone to work ill.  As he aged, he made certain his demeanor never changed.  He was rigorously attentive to his physique, his uniform, even the tone of his voice. 

He never remembered the autumn being so oppressive.  The heat seemed to leach his energy and his strength.  Keeping up with the small children was out of the question, but even sitting with Cosette as she prepared for a tea that she was hosting exhausted him. 

“Javert, why don’t you go take a nap?” she asked, when his eyes drifted shut, yet again. 

The oppressive heat of the autumn weather had always been hard on him.  His allergies typically flared as the pollen stopped drifting to the ground, making it hard for him to keep up his strong demeanor.  Typically, this wasn’t an issue.  He and her papa had lived alone and they would simply stop visiting for a few weeks.  Sometimes, they would call on her to take care of him, but for the most part Javert would hermit in the house as much as possible and ride out his symptoms in peace. 

Her heart thudded in her chest as she worried about him being around children while symptomatic.  She was not concerned that they would be anything but gracious and polite.  But, five bless out of sync blessings from children that were only trying to be caring, yet did not have any tact about it would only annoy him.  She knew that she should be worried about how his harshness would affect the children.  But, truly she was more concerned about making him uncomfortable.  If he lashed out at the children, they would forgive and forget, as was their wont.  But, she knew from experience that he would feel incredibly guilty about the ordeal.  She supposed she should be grateful that the first time they had to deal with such situations was naught but an allergy. Were it a true illness, she would have to worry about her papa catching it – and she more worried about what he would say to the children than what Javert would.

“Grandpere Javert, will you help me with my ethics homework?” the eldest grandson asked, coming in with a book and a sketchboard.

“Yes.”  The word came out hoarse.  After he cleared his throat roughly, he got up suddenly.  Pausing he took a deep breath and hoped the world would stop swimming before his eyes.  “Not in here,” he instructed.  “This is what a study is for.”  He ushered the young boy into the study as Cosette watched in informed concern.

**Les Mis**

Javert schooled his breathing to make certain that he did not breath through his nose, which had started feeling very full.  The oppressive heat made it difficult for him to breathe.  Luckily, the boys ethics problems were so simple, he could guide with a look or by pointing to important text. 

A tickle exploded in his head, traveling through his nose and making his ears itch.  He quickly took a wet sniffle in, which only caused more discomfort.

The boy turned to look at him.  His eyes were his mothers, though his features carefully schooled to his father’s.  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked, the words so obviously mimicking Cosette.

“That is not how… hoh-ow…”  He closed his eyes and willed the sneeze away.  Tears prickled at his eyes as he felt as though all the moisture in his head had dropped forward.  Remembering his strength from his youth, Javert stayed the impending sneeze. “That is not how a gentleman acknowledges another gentleman.  You take charge of the situation.  Saying something like, ‘Grandpere, you are not well…”  He was out of breath and his chest rose and fell as the sneeze built within him.

“I would never presume to take such a tone with you,” the boy responded.

A smile turned the edges of Javerts lips.  So the boy did know how to speak well. 

“Adjust it appropriately,” he guided.

“Grandpere, I don’t believe you’re well,” the young boy finished, just as Javert lost control.

“YAH-Ekeesssttchhhooo!”  Javert pitched forward with the sneeze, catching it in his tented hands.  The spray violently attacked his hands and made him wince.  “Heh-hah…”  he was vaguely aware that the boy was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear it through the next impending sneeze.  “No… no…” he whispered.  “EK-AHTschoooo!”  Eyes squeezed shut, he pitched forward again.  He nose was now running freely and tears streamed down his face.  An embarrassed flush would blossom in his cheeks if he was cognizant enough.  “HEP-Et…”  He panted heavily, a wheeze forming in his chest and the final sneezes built up.  “Ak-Tesszzzhhooo!  PAH-Tchhkk!” 

The fit finished with an annoyed, “Ugh,” which gave way to heavy pants as he struggled to catch his breath.  Red rimmed glassy eyes looked at his grandson as the flush started to creep into his cheeks and neck. 

The boy looked at him, wide eyed, and Javert felt as though cold was rushing through him.  He needed an escape to clean himself up.  Turning away, he tugged out his handkerchief and blew his nose fully.  His nose tickled and burned as he did so.  “Forgive me,” he said, his breaths still heaving.

“Bless you… do you need me to get mama?”

Javert blinked as stars appeared before his eyes.  “No,” he whispered.  He would finish his responsibility to his grandson.  Heavy lids blinked quickly as his eyes moved in and out of focus.

“Grandpere, I don’t believe you are well,” the young man said seriously.  “Allow me to get mama.”

“No, just take me to my room,” he instructed.

The boy looked at him, confused, but stood in front of him and offered an arm.  He was considerably dwarfed by his grandpere, in both height and weight. He worried that if the older man fell, he could hurt himself.  What if he sneezed on the stairs?  The boy resolved to hold his grandpere up at all costs – like the adults did to the children.  He was thirteen years old now.  Time for him to step up and take part of the adult generation.

Javert took the arm and felt the boy shuffle step under his weight.  Reality sparked in his eyes as he realized how inappropriate his request was.  “Ah,” he groaned sitting back down.  “Perhaps you should get your mother. “

The boy looked crestfallen. 

“You’re doing well… but – huh- Ekssshoo!” He caught the sneeze on the cuff of his jacket.  “I don’t want to hurt you should I fall.  I should not have requested.  I apologize.”

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, which he promptly shook off.  He didn’t need this child’s kindness. It was merely an allergy.  No need to treat him like a relic – like the prefecture had.  All those years of experience and the most excitement he had in weeks was tutoring a boy in ethics.  Ridiculous.

“I shall get mama,” the boy said.  His voice pinched with hurt. 

He called the boy back to him.  “I’m proud of you.  I am not mad at you.  I just… I … I don’t feel well.”

The boy sighed.  He wished he was grown up enough to take care of the man in front of him.  He knew that his grandpere was the inspector of Paris.  He remembered watching his parents get ready for the retirement party.  He had heard stories about his dashing grandpere his whole life.  The man had cared for everyone around him his entire life.  And now the only people who could really care for him were Granpere Jean and his mama.  “I would take care of you,” he whispered.

“I’m a bad patient,” Javert admitted with a sigh.  Albeit he was a far better patient than their Grandpere Jean.  He hoped the children never had cause to see the man ill – or at least not feverish.  Jean’s lack of temperament nearly destroyed their relationship and drove Cosette away.  True, those fences seemed to have been mended, but he knew that the damage that had been done was deep.  Deep enough for Cosette to still think about it – to still remember her thoughts – even all these years later.

“You deserve a good doctor.”

“Yeh-AtCHOO!” Javert moved his jaw to pop his ears, which gave way to husky coughs.  “Not as ill as all that.  Just an allergy.”  Cold suddenly gripped his stomach.  “I hope you’ll not think too little of me,” he offered.

The boy gaped at him.  “How could I think any less?” he asked, meaning that he did not think any less than he had an hour before when he asked for help with his studies. 

“Ah,” Javert responded.  He had hoped that the boy had gotten over their spat from the year before.  Instead it seemed that he had held it against Javert this whole time.  “I guess some things cannot be mended,” he said as he sneezed stuffily.

A wrinkle of the boys brow.  “I didn’t mean,” he boy started, but Javert held his hand up.

“You owe me no apology for stating your feelings.  I hurt you; you hurt me.  We’re square.”  He huffed a few coughs and looked up as the door open, missing the look of horror in the boys’ eyes and how his mouth fell slightly agape.

“It is that time of year, isn’t it,” Cosette said gently.  She handed Javert a handkerchief, just in time for him to huff a stuffy sneeze into it.

She tisked as she looked him over.  “Would you fancy a nap?” she asked, gently.  “Or would you rather spend some time in the parlor?  The girls are in there, but I’m certain they wouldn’t mind your presence.”

“They’ll probably try to take care of you,” the young boy mumbled. 

Javert’s eyes widened in horror.

“Okay, you’ll retire for a bit.  Papa should be home soon...”

“I can study in my room.  Grandpere can stay here to … uh….”

“Take his solace,” Cosette finished for him.  “Will that do for you?” she asked Javert.  Her heart went out to him.  She hoped he would be able to stay his symptoms prior to dinner.  Many blessings each time he sneezed – or giggles when he sniffled – would be disastrous.  She twirled a long blonde strand of hair between her fingers as she tried to quell the anxiety that grew within her.  She had not taken an allergy into consideration.  With ailments the men could easily be confined to their wing.  An allergy … that meant he was awake and miserable.  Tears sprung to her eyes as she tried to figure out how to make the next few hours run smoothly.

Her discomfort did not go unnoticed by Javert.  “What is it?” he asked, his voice hoarse and strained.

“Nothing,” she answered quickly.  “Come,” she ushered the boy out of the room.  “Would you like some tea?” she asked Javert.

“Angel, what is it?”  His breath started coming in heavy pants again.  “Harttcchhhh!” He breathed out quickly and blew his nose with a congested honk.  “Excuse me,” he said, after a few coughs.

“I just hope that I can keep my family in check without embarrassing you.”

Allergic tears leaked from his eyes and ran, hot, down his face.  “HumpCTCHOO!  Ptsshoo!  Humfffshhh!”  He groaned as he blew his nose again. “Pardon me,” he said as he mopped his eyes.

He felt a soft kiss be planted on his cheek.  “There are books in the corner and some paperwork of a few cold cases on the desk.  Do what you will.  I’ll check on you soon.”  Her voice was but a whisper.  He wanted to reach out to her and ask what was wrong, but he felt warm and his throat tickled uncomfortably. 

** Les Mis **

“YEAACHHHooo!” The sneeze was detonated from the very bottom of his lungs and tossed him forward so violently that had Jean not been there to catch his shoulder, he was certain he would have wound up getting food on his handkerchief. 

“Bless you, grandpere,” all of the children responded in unison.  Just as they had for every other sneeze.  A flush crept up his neck and into his ears.  He wanted to snap at the group of them that he didn’t need to be reminded that he was symptomatic after every sneeze, thank you very much.  But, he knew that doing so would be frowned on and that he would have to either give apologies or live with the repercussions. 

“Actually, children, the proper thing to do would be to bless him a few times, and then leave it go.”  ValJean’s voice was soothing, nurturing.  He was the great teacher of the house and would help raise these children with the same kind hand that he had raised Javert.

“Might I get you some tea, Grandpere Javert?” one of the girl children asked.

“That would be very kind,” ValJean answered for him.  He looked over his companion, a look of concern crossing his aging features as he realized that Javert had yet to lift his face from his handkerchief.  “Could you please bring it to our room?  I’ve had a trying day and need to retire early.”

“Are you all right?” he asked Javert, very softly.

With a nod, Javert picked up his head and looked at him.  His eyes were glassy and his nose raw and pink.  “Jean,” he breathed before his face crashed back into this handkerchief with dry coughs. 

Without another word, ValJean lifted Javert out of his seat.  He walked with him, bearing the brunt of his weight until they reached their room. 

Javert plopped unceremoniously on the bed and struggled to catch his breath.  “I’m sorry, Jean,” he panted. 

Slowly, ValJean sat down beside him.  “Your allergies haven’t been this bad in many years.  Are you certain you’re feeling well?”

“No,” he hissed out a stifled sneeze.  “I feel dreadful.  But, I’m certain that it’s allergy driven, if that’s your concern.”  A tender hand on his forehead, feeling for a fever no doubt.

“Hm.  You’re warm.  But, that could just be because of the exercise the sneezing et al are giving you.”

Javert gave a frustrated sigh.  “I shall sleep in our sitting area if you’re worried about becoming ill.”  He could hardly blame the man.  They had both been considerably well since they moved in with Cosette and Marius.  He was certain that were he becoming ill, the man would not want to share in the misery.

“That is not what I meant,” ValJean said, as he stood up.  He knelt down and started to gently divest Javert of his shoes.

The man wiggled his toes and sighed as the confining clothing was stripped away.  Too warm skin became covered in goosebumps as it hit came in contact with the humid air that surrounded them.   “I know.  I apologize.  I just feel so tired.  But, HarumpCHH!” He tried, unsuccessfully, to blow his nose.

“No need to explain.  I am used to it.”  ValJean got into his sleep shift and got in bed beside Javert.  It had been too long for Cosette to bring tea.  He knew from years of experience that if she had not already, she would not tonight.

“My apologies then,” he said, clearing his throat.  He sighed as ValJean climbed in bed beside him.  “It won’t release until it rains.  Perhaps I should sleep in our sitting room,” he offered, referring to the sitting room that adjoined their bedroom. 

“No,” ValJean insisted.  “That is not acceptable.”

“I’ll keep you awake…”

“Where am I going?  I haven’t been mayor for quite some time.  Besides someone has to run interference when those kids decide they want to take care of you tomorrow.”

Javert settled himself on the bed, blowing his nose stuffily as he rested against the pillows.  “Good, because I need you here.”

Nearly twenty years into their relationship, ValJean’s heart soared.  He had never heard such a statement.  But, he would wait another twenty if it meant he got to hear it again. 


	7. Not Her Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean becomes sick with a cold and is everything Cosette feared he would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to name the children:
> 
> 1: Victoria - 14  
> 2: Collin - 13  
> 3: Phillipe - 9  
> 4: Eppie - 5  
> 5: Gavroche - 3 (Gavy)

 

Small fists pounded on the door and small voices were muffled on the other side.  _Gram-pere’s!! Gram-pere’s! It’s the first snow, come quick!_

Javert’s eyes snapped open in alarm as their fists started hitting the door.  Had they come for him?  The revolutionaries?  It couldn’t be.  They couldn’t find him.  Not here.  Clarity finally entered his mind as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.  There were low burning embers in the fireplace and the sun was barely peaking over the mountains, splaying the gentleness of sunlight throughout their bedroom. 

Beside him ValJean grunted and forced himself out of bed.  While they used to be able to get up at dawn and work long into the evening, their bodies had been slowing down.  He was grateful that their minds were still sharp. 

He rolled over as ValJean put on his house robe and opened the door.

“Grampere, we’re going for a walk in the snow.  You must come, you simply must.  It’s the first snowfall of the season,” the oldest girl implored. 

“This is what you bothered us for?” ValJean asked, his voice hoarse.

“Grandpere, you simply must come,” Collin explained.  Nervous eyes peered into the bedroom to see if they had woken Javert.  He didn’t wish to anger the man any more.  The two of them had already had several instances of friction, and it didn’t matter what anyone told him.  He was certain that Javert was only one more mistake away from pulling his love and support away from the boy.

ValJean narrowed his eyes and closed the door slightly.  “It’s not safe for Javert to go out into the snow,” he grumbled, thinking of how badly the man had hurt his knee falling on ice the year before.

“I would help.  It’s just a walk and tw- oof!”  He glared at his younger brother, who had elbowed him in the stomach.

“Don’t tell!  It’s the best sort of surprise,” the younger boy chastised. 

“I’d help Grand-pere Javert,” Collin assured ValJean.

“And if he were to fall?  What then?” he asked, clearing his voice again.  His heart pulsed harder at the thought of Javert landing on the boy and hurting him as well.

“I would catch him,” the boy said valiantly.  “I will not let him fall.”

“I will speak to him,” he said, closing the door on five very confused children.

An hour later, he and Javert were dressed  and downstairs, drinking tea and eating the light breakfast that had been prepared.

“So how long will we be out?” ValJean asked, his temper more in check than it had been upon awaking.

“Only about an hour or two.  Marius has some men to meet, so we’ll come back here straight away after.  But, it’s tradition to enjoy the first snowfall as a family.  I am so delighted that you will be joining us this year, papa.”  It was the first winter that they were living together and there had been more than their fair share of misunderstandings and territorial issues.  But, the older men were obviously trying to change their ways in order to fit in, and it meant the world to Cosette.

“Praise the Lord,” ValJean grumbled.  “Javert if you’re not up for it, please just let me know.  We don’t have to dilly dally this morning.”

The light in Cosette’s eyes dimmed a bit and she turned to help their youngest, who was about three. “What is it Gav?” she asked, picking him up even though he was perfectly happy sitting on the floor.  He whined to get out of her arms.

“Oh for Heaven’s sakes put the child down,” ValJean snapped, rubbing his temples.

Cosette wordlessly did what she was told.

Observant brown eyes went between Cosette and her father.  “I think it will be nice,” Javert said, softly.  He looked up at Marius, who was intensely staring at the paper.  At least the young man was smart enough not to intervene.  Javert, however, was known for his cunning wit, not his intelligence and he was not constrained by the same sense of propriety.   “My knee is feeling good and it will be a nice change of pace.”

ValJean’s eyes snapped up.   “Your knee.”  He cast an angry glance at Cosette.  “Are you certain you can handle it?  We don’t have to go.”

“But, gram-pere, it would mean the world to me!” Collin exclaimed, knowing that while he was out of his Grandpere Javert ‘s favor, he could usually get Gram-pere Jean to see things his way.

“Your fancy does not rank above Javert’s health.  And shame on you for thinking it does.”

The young man’s face fell.  “My apologies,” he whispered, walking over to his father’s outstretched arm.  Marius spoke a few soft words to the boy who nodded and walked out of the room.

“Jean that was unfair.  It would be my pleasure to go.  I’ll have my cane.  I’ll have you.  Oof!”  He stumbled as the youngest daughter ran into him.  She bounced off, her eyes wide as saucers.  “My deepest apologies grampapa,” she said with a curtsey, squealing with laughter as she continued running with her older sister hot on her heels. 

 

His upbringing said that he should be glaring at the children, acting out in such a way.  But, truthfully, he was happy.  He had no idea what he had done to deserve to be and elder in a house full of such love, but he did not want to do anything to ruin it.  He felt Jean’s hand on his shoulder and gave him a curt nod.  “I’m fine.  She didn’t hit me that hard.”

“I could hit her back,” Jean said, his tone flat. 

“You will not!” Marius interjected, his eyes ablaze with protectiveness.  The man was not always kind to Cosette and Marius turned a blind eye at her request.  But, he would not take anyone threatening his children.  Especially not his Eppie.  The girl was so full of light and mischief – just like the woman she was named after. 

Jean looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head.  “Of course not.  It was merely a statement.  My apologies for offending.”  He looked at Javert and his heart sunk when he realized that not even his partner was laughing at his joke.  “Well… then what are we waiting for?”

** Les Mis**

The family was dressed in their lightest winter wear.   Covered in cloaks, they took a walk to the nearby meadow where the girls whined that they missed the flowers.  The family came to a small stream and Cosette and Marius helped the children across.  There was some slipping, but no catastrophies.

“Grampere,” Collin said coming up to his side.  “Might I assist you in crossing the stream?”

Javert paused.  He was loathe to push the young man away.  They had already had too many miscommunications, too many hurt feelings.  He knew that Cosette had a seemingly endless amount of forgiveness.  But, he didn’t expect that a young man could understand.  He worried about how many chances he had left.

“And if he falls?  You cannot catch him.  Your offer is kind, but misplaced.  I will guide him.  You are a hindrance more than a help,” ValJean snapped.

Collin looked like he was about to say something.  Rather he stuck out his chin and gave a curt nod that reminded Javert so much of himself it startled him.  “As you wish it.  I will not bother you again.”  Without another word, he turned and crossed the bridge, picking up the baby and cooing at him. 

“He’s like his mother,” Javert said as ValJean helped him cross the stream.  “He’s got a good heart.  We can’t keep pushing him away.  Eventually he won’t come back.  He’s not Cosette.”

“You worry too much, “ ValJean said, steadying Javert as he stepped off the ice.  "The boy is spoiled by their kindness.  He needs to learn the ways of the world before he is in it.”

Javert stopped walking and pulled ValJean’s hand, causing him to pause as well.  “He doesn’t need to learn it from us. “

ValJean nodded after a long moment.  “We’ll talk to him after we’re home and rested.”

Javert nodded, his eye wandering ahead.  It had started to flurry and he heard squeals of delight from the children.  After a short countdown, he watched as the young family pulled down their cloak hoods, threw open their arms and twirled in the snowfall.

“It’s beautiful,” Javert whispered.

A smile of serene contentment crossed ValJean’s lips as he watched Marius doff his top hat and ask Cosette to dance.  Following their parent’s lead, the children paired up and mimicked the dancing to the best of their ability.

Javert and ValJean walked up to the dancing family, hand in hand.  It was obvious to both of them why they had been invited to join.  It was something neither of them wanted to miss.

“Grampere, may I have this dance?” the oldest child, Victoria, asked.  She curtsied properly and waited for ValJean to respond.

“Heh-EtCHOO!” ValJean sneezed, quickly turning to the side.

Javert turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he realized what was going on.  “Not right now, Victoria.  But, perhaps in a moment.”

“It won’t last but a moment,” the young lady said, clearly disappointed. 

“If you promise to dance slowly, I will dance with you,” Javert offered, reaching for her hand. 

She nodded at him, nervous eyes flitting to his knee. 

“I will not fall if we dance slowly,” he assured her.

“I will follow your lead,” she said, setting herself against him, prepared for whatever sort of dance he could want to do.  When he guided her into a gentle waltz she smiled.  “Mama always said you were a fine dancer.  I see that she was correct.”

The dancing continued for a few more minutes – until ValJean sneezed again.  He blew his nose with a loud honk, which captured both Javert and Cosette’s attention.

“Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the head-ache that he had been ignoring for hours finally explode behind his eyes. 

“Excuse me,” Javert said, bowing out of the dance. 

“Bless you, Grampere,” Victoria said, coming up to him with Javert.  “Do we need to head home?”

“No, let’s just stay out here s-so that I can c-catch my – Hee…ahhhStchoo!”  His head snapped forward into a cupped hand. 

She smiled, giving him a knowing look like he would expect from her father.  “I’ll go tell mama and papa,” she said, walking towards the rest of the family.

** Les Mis**

ValJean shivered as Victoria poured a kettle of water into the basin where his feet rested.  He sneezed again after a stutter breath.

“Bless you,” she offered quietly.  She went to feel his forehead, but he pulled away.

“That is not for you to do,” he chastised. 

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.  She had offered to help her mother help her grandpapa.  She had wanted to step up and help him while he was ill, especially since she knew how taxing it would be on her mama if the rest of the family became ill as well.  She was too old to expect her mama to do it all alone.  She hadn’t expected the sarcastic and sometimes mean statements from her grandpapa though.  If this is what her brother went through with Grandpere Javert, she could understand why Collin believed that Javert didn’t love him, or even like him.

“Heh-Atcchoo!  Shoo! _Sniff_   Atchhaaa!!”   He blew his nose and winced at the pain in his head. 

“Blessings.”

“Please cease your incessant manners.  We both know I’m ill.  I don’t need you pointing it out every… every… HetCHAA!”  He sniffed again.  “Every sneeze.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, sitting on the near sofa and picking up her needlepoint. 

**Les Mis**

“I am deeply apologetic for his spirit today.  I think it’s obvious what has gotten into him,” Javert said, lowering himself down into the chair by the fireplace.  He sighed with pain as he did so.

“You’re hurt,” Cosette said.

He waved her off.  “No, simply old.  Perhaps it would be best if I just take care of him.  You’re encouraged to stop in of course, but I wouldn’t want him to be unduly harsh on the children.”

“They have to learn to love people when they are not at their best,” she reasoned, sounding far too much like her father.

“But, not from the people who love them.  You know he’ll regret it if he hurts the children.”

“From the people who love them is perfect.  And I don’t believe he’ll hurt the children.  Have confidence in him.  You know he’s a good man.”

Javert nodded.  “I do know he is a good man,” he agreed. “However, I also know how he has treated you in the past.”

“I don’t matter; you know that,” she mumbled, putting the kettle on to boil.

“You do,” he said quickly, standing up as he did so. “You do matter.  You are so important – to me, to him…”

She held her hands up to slow him before he hurt himself.  “You misunderstand.  I don’t mean to say I don’t matter as a person, simply that I will take whatever recourse necessary.”

“I know… I know you will.  Too much – you take on too much responsibility for him.”  He remembered when the revolution was starting and ValJean had left a bruise on Cosette.  The man was horrified and Cosette had forgiven him without a second thought.  But, she was married now with children of her own.  He had the upmost certainty that Marius would not be nearly as forgiving if ValJean was to hurt Cosette or one of the children.  Nor should he be.

Cosette stopped speaking for a moment, obviously considering something.  “All right,” she said with a sigh.  “If you feel it’s best for just the two of us to provide care, I’ll let the governess know not to bring the children to visit.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.  The last thing he had expected was her to agree with him.  “Thank you,” he said, humbled by her modesty.

**Les Mis**

The rest of the day continued in much the same way, with ValJean sliding in and out of consciousness, and lacing any response to Victoria’s kindness with sarcasm and cruelty. 

“Mama?” she asked, as Cosette kissed her goodnight.  “Do I need to take care of Grampere again tomorrow?”  She hated asking, but the man had not been the kind person she had grown to know.  She knew that being sick would cause a person to be grumpy and mean in response, so she didn’t hold it against him.  But, she didn’t want him to have the same disdain for her that Javert held for Collin.

“No, my angel.  But I thank you for caring for him today.  I know he is not always easy to assist.”

Victoria shook her head.  She sighed sadly.  “Do you think he really thinks I’m a failure?” she asked.

“No.  Why? What did he say you failed at?”

“Being like you,” she answered, feeling shame and embarrassment creep over her.

“Oh, my angel, no.  You are not who I am.  And you’re not who I was.  You’re who you are, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”  She kissed her daughter again and vowed to talk to her father about making Victoria feel so badly.

Victoria nodded, but said nothing as she snuggled into her pillow.

**Les Mis**

ValJean twitched in his sleep, feeling the chains of Toulon bind him.  He tried to kick and reach out, keeping himself away from the bindings that he had known so well.  He felt their weight around his wrists and ankles and felt the chains bite him as he moved unceremoniously.  He felt trapped!  He would never get out.  Never see daylight or the gentle caress of the moon.  With one final guttural yell he woke himself up as he sat up in bed.  His hands free, he used all of his strength to push away the presence standing over him.  His eyes started to focus to the dim light of the moon as he heard whoever it was crash to the floor.

Javert was awake in an instant.  He had tried not to let Jean’s nightmare bother him.  He knew that a nightmare would cause uneasy sleep, but at least he was getting some sleep.  He turned towards his companion the second he started to scream and gasped as he was too slow to respond to Jean pushing Cosette clear off her feet.

“Cosette!” he exclaimed, rushing off the bed and going to pick her up.  The second he tried to lift her, she screamed in pain.  “What?  What is it?” he asked, crouching down on the floor and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shook off.

“My shoulder,” she breathed, her breath coming in hitches.

Quickly, Javert lit a candle and brought it down to view Cosette.

“Cosette?  What happened?” ValJean asked, his voice broken with the distance of fever. 

“Oh,” Javert said crossing himself.  Cosette’s arm was torqued at an odd angle.  “Cosette, your shoulder has been dislocated.  I can fix it, but it’s going to hurt.”

“It hurts,” she breathed, trying not to whine.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head.  “I know,” he said, setting his body against her own.  With the years of long practiced experience he popped her shoulder back in. 

She gasped and started to cry in response. 

“It’s all right, my angel.  Come downstairs.  We’ll put you in a splint.  You’ll be good as new in a few days.  I assure you.”  He helped her up carefully.  “It’s all right,” he whispered despite himself.  His heart went out to her.  He knew how badly it hurt the first few times his shoulder had dislocated.  And he knew how strong her father could be. 

Her father regarded the situation before him as though it were happening in a play, and interacted about as much.

“I was just trying to bring his fever down,” she said through the pain, as Javert put her arm into a sling. 

“I am aware of this.  He won’t remember any of it.”

“And yet it happens,” a male voice interjected. 

The both turned to see Marius coming into the room.  He sighed heavily.  “What happened?” he asked.  His tone was serious and his eyes focused on his wife’s arm, which had not been damaged when she left their bed to check on her father.

“He awoke from a night terror, violent,” Javert said, knowing that Cosette would try to smooth over what had happened and that ValJean did not deserve such a courtesy. 

“He hit you?” Marius asked.

“No, he pushed me.  Knocked me clear off my feet,” Cosette admitted.

“You are not to care for him again,” Marius said.  He knew it was an empty threat.  Cosette could no longer stop caring for people than he could stop worrying about the finances.  It was just who she was and he loved her for it.

“Marius, you know that’s not possible,” she said, turning towards him and kissing him gently.

“I know,” he said, brushing his hand gently down her arm.  “Javert, can you care for him tonight?  I would like Cosette to rest now.”

“Of course,” Javert said with a curt nod.  He understood the request and believed it to be quite reasonable.   But, how he was going to tell ValJean what had happened was still stumping him.

“Cosette, I apologize.  Are you all right, my turtle dove?” ValJean asked as Javert came back in.

“She’s not coming back tonight, Jean.  She needs to rest.  So do you.”  He sat down on the bed with a groan.   He was so exhausted, but he couldn’t rely on their angel this time.  Those chances had been used to completion.

ValJean’s eyes squeezed together as he weakly suppressed a sneeze.  “Ugh, I apologize for waking you.  I thought I was in Toulon again… I felt so… chained down.”

Javert shook his head minutely.  “You owe me no apology,” he answered.   He handed over a handkerchief. 

“Hesshh-WUFFA!”  ValJean caught the sneeze in the handkerchief and coughed a few times.  He yawned widely.  “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, without looking at Javert.  “It’s merely a bad cold.”  He sniffed wetly.  “Hettcchhaa!”  He groaned again. 

Javert outstretched his arm to ValJean.  He couldn’t dote on the older man like Cosette could.  But, he could make him feel safe and comfortable.  “Come.  You know I would never let them take you back to Toulon.”

ValJean snuggled in and nodded.  “I do. “  He sniffed wetly again and sneezed just as wetly.  He tried to catch the sneeze, but it sprayed on Javert anyway.  “Apologies my love.”

“None needed.  We live with Cosette.  Should I get ill too, you know she’ll provide care.”  He hoped.  He was all too aware of the fact that she might never feel safe with them again.  This was not the first time that Jean was rough with her. 

ValJean sniffed before his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.  Javert tightened his hold around him and let time slip by as he worried and prayed that Cosette would forgive them – ValJean for hurting her and him for not protecting her.

**LES MIS**

The hustle and bustle of the mornings was what ValJean had come to love the most.  Every awake, vying for some breakfast before they began whatever their day was.  Even with pressure that threatened to make his head explode, he convinced Javert to go downstairs. 

“It’s not like you to fight me on this, Javert,” he said, as he tried to stay the shivering that threatened to take over his body.  “I thought you liked the mornings.”

“I do,” Javert said, following closely behind his companion, his hand out in case ValJean should lose his footing.   “But…”  He didn’t get to finish his statement before Victoria came into the foyer. 

“Oh,” she said, stepping back from both of them.  “Do be kind to mama this morning.  She is … well she took a topple down the stairs, but she says she looks more seriously injured than she is.”

ValJean looked at his oldest grandchild quizzically.  “When did she fall?”  He huffed out a few coughs.

“Last night.”  She looked him over warily.  “Just be gentle… she is tired.”  She turned her eyes down.  “It must have been a terrible tumble.  Her arm… her face…  Don’t mention her face.  She’s very touchy about  it,” the young lady warned.

Without another word, ValJean pushed past Victoria and into the dining room.  His heart sunk as he saw his daughter with her arm in a sling.  Purple bruises blossomed on one side of her face.

“What happened?” he asked, his breath becoming short with more than just the impending sneeze. 

“Nothing for you to concern yourself over.  Just a bit of a topple,” she answered, not looking up.  Marius chose this moment to pick up Gavy.

Javert all but growled at her, as he glared from beside ValJean.  “Your face,” he whispered.  He came up beside her and ran gentle fingers over the bruise.  “When did this happen?”

“When I hit the wall,” she answered softly.

“You knew last night?” he asked.

“Did you know about this?” ValJean asked Javert. 

“I heard her fall,” Javert answered honestly.  He didn’t know why they were all protecting ValJean, but it was Cosette’s way.

“Yes, I knew… I didn’t know the bruising would be so pronounced though.”  She started up a conversation with Eppie as ValJean motioned for Marius to join him in the study.

“Did you do this?” he asked, his raspy voice intense with poorly repressed anger.  He turned and sneezed violently.

“No, monsieur.  You did,” Marius answered.  “Apparently, she was caring for you and you woke up enraged.  You pushed her – hurt her.  Javert had to relocate her shoulder last night.  The bruises appeared this morning.”  Brown eyes bore into the older man.  The flower of his life did not deserve to be bruised for her beauty.

“I would never,” ValJean started to retort, but Javert came up behind him and stopped him.

“You did.  You didn’t mean to, but you knocked her clear off her feet.”

The older man looked shamed as he swallowed thickly.

“She doesn’t want the children to know,” Marius continued in a harsh whisper.  “But what if you had done this to one of the children?  Victoria was caring for you yesterday.  Would you have done this to her as well?” 

ValJean wanted to answer that of course he would not.  But that wasn’t true.  In his right mind he wouldn’t hurt Cosette, but he had maimed her.  He could do it to the children.  He knew his demeanor changed when he was sick.  What if he had hurt one of the children?  “I’ll stay in my room until this passes,” he said, dejectedly. 

Guilt swept over Marius.  “At least have some breakfast first.  It’ll keep your strength up.”

ValJean shook his head.  “Hettcchsshoo!”   The sneeze crept up on him and he sneezed freely, happy that there wasn’t anyone in front of him.  “I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

“Grampere, can I get you something?” Victoria asked as he started back up the stairs.  “Perhaps some tea?”

ValJean shook his head.  “Didn’t you get enough attention yesterday?” he asked her.

“No, it’s not about attention,” she said, her voice warbling with hurt. 

“I don’t want you near me today or likely tomorrow either,” he said, trying to gauge how long it would take until he was safe to be around again.

The girls eyes lowered as her features looked crushed.  “Yes, gram-pere,” she said.  “My apologies…”

But, he was already too far up the stairs and didn’t hear her.

**LES MIS**

“Heh-Hur-Shoosh!” ValJean sneezed for what had to be the twentieth time that hour.  He huffed out a few chesty coughs.

“Bless you,” Javert said, looking up from his book.  The two of them had settled in their study, both trying to cope with the reality of what had happened at breakfast.  Javert had hoped that keeping the solitude would help ValJean process through the pain faster.  But, as another blessing went unthanked, he realized that he had taken the wrong tactic.

“It’s not like you hit her on purpose, Jean.  You were fighting the chains of Toulon.”

“I broke her.  Physically broke her.  I…” he sighed sadly.  He saw the bruises on her face, her arm in the sling.   He sniffled wetly, and sneezed, “Heh-Kessh!” into a cupped hand.

“Bless you.”

Jean grunted a response.

“Tea time!” the door opened and Cosette walked in, behind her, Victoria carried a tray of tea, sandwiches, and cookies.

“No Cosette, it’s not safe!” ValJean insisted.

Cosette merely rolled her eyes.  “As though a little injury would ever keep me away from you.”  She leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, noticing that his temperature was elevated, but not alarmingly so. 

Javert’s heart warmed in a way that he had not expected.  He knew that the family would be a bit harsh on his companion – especially Marius, who had schooled keeping out of the interpersonal relationship between his wife and her father in to a fine art.  However, he was always surprised by Cosette’s willingness to forgive and move on.  He supposed this was a trait that she had gotten from her father, and he could not be more pleased to watch her pass it along to her eldest daughter. 

A look of contentment crossed ValJean’s face as Victoria placed the tray on the table next to his chair.  “A bit of tea will warm you right up,” the girl said with great dignity, mimicking her mother so eloquently that Javert felt that he was transformed back many years to when she was about that age and he had ailed in front of her for the first time.

“Tha-hank…” ValJean covered his nose and mouth with one hand and hunched over in a deep sneeze.  He went to take the teacup that Victoria was so patiently holding, when “Harr-ESSH!”  In his haste to catch the sneeze, he hit the teacup and saucer out of the young lady’s hand, sending the scalding liquid onto both of them and the teacup and saucer crashing to the floor.

Cosette let out an, “Oh!” of surprise, rushing over to see that they were both unharmed.

Victoria was biting her lip with her eyes closed as she felt the burn on her neck and hand.  _It wasn’t bad_ , she told herself.  Her grand-pere’s health was far more important.  He was the one who was ailing. 

After answering her mother’s question of her concern with a quiet, “Yes, maman,” she opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath.  “Are you all right, gram-pere?” she asked, reaching out towards him. 

“No thanks to you, foolish child,” he snapped.

“My apologies,” she whispered.  Her thoughts drifted to her brother who had told her that he didn’t think grand-pere Javert liked him very much.  She wondered if the same would become true for grampere Jean and herself. 

“Victoria, mind your grandperes while I go get some milk for that burn,” Cosette said, placing a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Would you like my cup?” Victoria offered, pouring another cup of tea.

“No,” ValJean breathed before becoming overwrought with a sneezing fit.  “Hep-TCHOO!  Heh-ESSSHH!  KeTCHOO!  Aghh-ASSHOOSHH!”  Loud and intense, the final sneeze gave way to chesty coughs, which ValJean released into tented hands.  His elbows rested on his knees as he hunched over, trying to draw himself away from the others in the room.

Victoria put down the tea and shuffled forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.  Her feet pushed aside the remnants of the teacup that had fallen.

“Not in the glass!” Javert exclaimed, raising from his seated positon with a groan and went to move the young lady. 

She turned with a gasp as the larger man reached for her.  “No, I’m fine” she said, moving backwards, wincing as she heard the glass crush beneath her feet.

He looked at her slowly, closing his eyes and envisioning how the tea had fallen.  He held his hands out to his sides, as though he was showing a hostile criminal that he was unarmed.   He went to a knee with another groan, feeling his joints pop as he moved. 

“Grampere,” Victoria said, moving to help him.  But, she found herself rooted in her spot.  She looked down and saw grampere Jean holding her arm. 

“Don’t make things worse,” he whispered.  “Just stay still and stop being a nuisance.”

A crestfallen look fell over her young features.  “Yes, sir,” she said, as she watched Javert pick up the pieces.

Cosette walked in as Javert was getting up, pieces of glass in his hand. 

“Javert, you’re so sweet,” she said, wincing slightly as he groaned.  She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and was pleased that he was not running a fever.   While Javert placed the pieces in the waste bin, she turned to Victoria.  “You could have helped him you know.”

She nodded sadly.  “Yes, ma’am,” she whispered.  A dull ache filled her heart.  “I’ll take my leave now.  I’m certain the governess will be missing me.”  She tentatively kissed each of her grandfathers and pulled back with a small gasp as Javert ran his fingers down the burn on her neck. 

“Put balm on that,” he whispered as brown eyes watched Cosette place a milk soaked napkin on her father’s hand.

“You’re kind, but it is no matter,” Victoria whispered, grasping his hand softly.  Sad eyes cast to her mother, as she watched the ease with which she took care of her ailing grandfather.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she offered to the fevered man.

“You are not your mother,” he snapped.

Cosette’s eyebrows knit together in concern.  “No, she is not,” she said, giving her daughter a small smile.  “She plays harp and she sings.  She can charm the nightingale off the branch if you give her enough time.  She’s a little like me, a big heart and a bit clumsy.  And I wouldn’t want her any other way.”  She fixed her father with a glare.  “And neither should you.”

Brown eyes glimmered with guilt as ValJean looked at his eldest grandchild.  “Bah,” he snapped, just before he buried three restrained sneezes into his wrist.

Cosette watched her daughter leave sadly.  “I know this isn’t the life you wanted,” she said, addressing the two men.  “But, they love you.  She loves you both.   She’ll never be me.  Please love her for who she is.”

Javert bowed his head in shame.  The words weren’t meant for him.  But, he knew what it was to feel unwanted.  He knew that he had made Cosette feel unwanted more than a few times.  He knew that his eldest grandson still doubted his love.  Thoughts ran through his mind until he felt nauseous.  “Would you like me to talk to her?” he asked, his voice strong, authoritative, and betraying the feelings of inadequacy that he felt would fill him whole.

“No,” Cosette said.  “She’ll come to.”  She took a shaking breath.  She always knew that the time would come when the men ailed and took out their frustrations on her children.  She only hoped that it was fixable before it was too late.


	8. Out of Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria feels that she has fallen out of favor with her Grampapa Jean.

Victoria crept into the boys room, walking only on her tip-toes, to not wake the whole room, only the brother that she wanted.

“Collin,” she whispered, sitting on the boys bed.

He opened his eyes, as though it were normal for his older sister to be in his room during the wee hours of the morning. “What’s wrong?” he asked.  It was the joy of being one of the eldest children…he and his sister had always shared a bond.  They were responsible for helping to raise the younger children, and the only two who had taken on any responsibility for caring for their grandpapas. They were also the only two to remember their father’s papa, likely why they shared the responsibility in caring for the two who currently resided with the family.

“I don’t think grampapa Jean likes me very much,” she admitted quietly.

“I don’t think he does either,” Collin agreed. “It’s like me and grampere Javert. He used to love me,” he agreed comparing his situation with that of Victoria.

“How do we gain their favor back?” she asked sadly.  “I didn’t mean to not be mama.”

“I didn’t mean to make grandpere Javert angry.  But, it’s been over a year.  Once you lose their favor, they don’t give it back.”

Victoria made a small sound of hurt. “How do you deal with it?”

“I ask grandpere Javert for help with things… and sometimes he will. But, there’s always a slight at the end. Just try to act normal, and don’t act hurt when he hurts your feelings.  I think grampapa Jean loves me still.  Maybe grandpere Javert loves you instead.”

“So, I just have to be mama,” she said, dejected.

“No… you have to be Victoria, just not around grampapa Jean.

“Can you tell him I love him?” she asked sadly, already missing the love of her favorite grandparent. Javert was kind sometimes, but he was brusque. She was positive that he didn’t like her much either.

“Only if you tell grandpere Javert the same for me.”

She nodded and laid down next to her brother.  She didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.

** Les Mis **

“Grandpere Javert?” Victoria asked  the next morning.  She had pulled her hair into a long ponytail, which fell down her back.  Her dress was a plain lavender house dress with properly fitted sleeves.

He looked up from his book and smiled at the little girl who was a spitting image of her mother at that age, but with her father’s eyes.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, putting aside his book.

“Have you ever had someone not like you?” she asked, coming up to him.

A wide smile spread over his face.  “Many.  Do you know what I did when I worked?”

“You were the greatest inspector in all of Paris,” she answered with the reverence obviously put there by her parents.

“I worked with the police. I put bad guys in jail.  I was disliked by lots of people.  Why?  Do you think someone likes you?”

“See there’s this person I like… I love him.  But, he doesn’t like me at all. How do I make him like me?”

He looked at her critically, purposefully relaxing his face when she backed up nervously. “You love him, you say?” he asked, deciding that digging for more information would be better than lecturing the young woman on love.

“Yes, very much.”

“Why don’t you think he likes you?”  He couldn’t imagine someone not loving the young woman before him. Not only was she beautiful, but she was well read and spoken.  She played harp beautifully, and had a heart befitting her mothers.

“He tells me that I’m annoying and that I’m in the way.”  She sighed sadly.  “He says that I’m not good enough.”

A protective surge rose through Javert. “Whomever would tell you that isn’t worth your love.”

She looked at him sadly. “He is. He’s really good.  Everyone else loves him… and he loves everyone else.  I’m just the one he doesn’t love.”  Tears threatened to fall from her large brown eyes.

The moment he saw how hurt she was, he realized that he had said the wrong thing. “Well you just be who you are.  Try to do things that he likes a little bit more.  Stay away from the things that make him upset.  Maybe he’ll come around.”  He forced himself to smile and her and welcomed the tentative hug that she gave him as she thanked him for his advice.

** Les Mis **

“Cosette?” Javert asked, coming into her private study later that afternoon. 

She welcomed him in with a smile.  “Javert!  To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He stood before her at ease. He would not sit down, and after years of being denied for offering, Cosette had stopped offering.  “I come on behalf of your eldest daughter,” he responded formally.

“Victoria?  What is it?”

He nodded, curtly.  “She says she’s in love… and the boy doesn’t love her back.  Have you and Marius been trying to set her into marriage already?”

Cosette smiled softly at him.  “Hardly.  But, a girl’s first crush is special.  And, boys her age often aren’t ready.  I wouldn’t worry about it, Javert.  Be honored that she came to you. It take a lot of trust for a young lady to make herself so vulnerable.  What is the lad’s name?” she asked.

He paused.  “I do not know.”

“Talk to her if she wants to.  You might be the only grown-up she tells.”

His mouth gaped open.  “Cosette, I hardly feel that I’m the right person to do so.”

Her smile grew.  “It matters not what you think, Javert.  The fact is that she’s chosen you to trust.  Be gentle.  She’s young and vulnerable.”

He fidgeted, and she fought not to giggle.  There were few times that she had ever seen him nervous enough to fidget.  That it took the trust of a young woman, who would love him even if he never spoke to her of it again, to make him so uncomfortable was… well it was cute.

He nodded serious. “I will do so… somehow,”  he said before leaving as formally as he had come in.

“Jean?” he asked, walking into his companion’s study. 

ValJean looked up from the book that he had been reading. “You call so formally, as though you haven’t walked in here a hundred times before,” ValJean pointed out gently, gesturing for him to sit.

Javert sighed as he sat.  “Victoria has confided in me,” he confessed seriously.  “She has her first crush and he apparently doesn’t share the attraction” He looked at his partner.  “Why she would choose to tell me this is beyond what I can comprehend.  You’re much better with this than I.”

A large grin appeared on ValJean’s face.  “Javert that’s good. She trusts you.  She trusts you not to tell anybody.  Don’t you worry.  Your secret is safe with me. Now, what is the young man’s name?”  He had met most of Victoria’s friends, but he hadn’t noticed any attraction from her to anyone. 

“I don’t know.  I didn’t know what to ask,” Javert admitted.

“Ask for names.  Ask what they did together.  Ask if she knows what he likes, and maybe pick up a little something for them to share.  Have fun with it,” ValJean suggested.

“I take no pleasure in my eldest grand-daughter feeling that the boy she loves doesn’t love her back,” he snapped protectively.

“Javert,” ValJean admonished gently, “think back to being thirteen.  Do you recall being interested in courtship?”

“I don’t believe I can remember that long ago,” he teased. “But, I understand what you mean.  Thank you, my love.  I couldn’t do this without you.”

** Les Mis **

Victoria’s fingers graced the strings of her harp as she free formed different sounds.  Her eyes were closed and she felt the vibrations and heard what notes sounded good together and which did not. 

“That cannot be a song,” a slightly annoyed voice said, breaking through her thoughts.

She opened her eyes and calmed the strings as she looked at her grampapa Jean. “I’m sorry.  It’s just an exercise.”  She swallowed and hope that he wouldn’t get too angry.  She remembered what Collin said.  She had to be perfect.  Unfortunately, she had already started out badly.

“Would you consider playing me a real song?” ValJean asked, noticing that there was a wide eyed look in her eyes, as though she was worried that she would get in trouble.

“Of course,” she said, clearing her head and playing one of her best pieces without a word. When she finished, her heart soared to have her grampapa looking at her with pride in his eyes.

When she finished, he nodded with a smile. “Thank you. That was quite lovely” he said with a smile. 

Victoria felt elated. Finally, she had done something to please him. Perhaps he could learn to love her again after all. 

She turned whne she heard the heavily weighted steps of Javert enter the room.

“That was quite lovely,” he said with a smile. “Look at what I brought you,” he said, giving her a small box.

Giving him a slightly excited, but mostly confused look, she opend the box slowly. “Marzipan,” she gasped. “Oh that is delightful. But, what is the occasion?”   
“For you to share with the young man that you told me about,” he said. 

She looked between her grandpapas. 

“Would you like one?” she asked, Grampapa Jean. She hadn’t seen him ever eat sweets, and wasn’t certain if his tastes in finer foods ran than way.

“Now, Victoria, while kind, that is not for me. That is for the young gentleman that you are trying to impress.

With a nod, she reached the box out towards him. “Yes, exactly,” she said, giving him a small smile. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, his shock in her admittance evident in his voice. 

She suddenly felt as though she had done something wrong. A faux pas, perhaps. They were so easy to run into.

“Victoria,” Javert asked, groaning as he came down to the girls height. “Do you mean to tell me that your grampere Jean is whom you think does not like you?”   
She thought about Collin, and how brave he had been with Grampere Javert. “Yes,” she admitted with a whisper.   
Gray eyes fell to the floor as Javert dealt with the tumulus emotions within him. He already knew that her older brother doubted his own love. And, now the eldest daughter was dubious about the love of the other. 

“Why?” ValJean asked. 

“You always tell me that I’m not good enough – not enough like mama, that I make things worse. You never accept my apologies. I know that not everyone will love everyone else always. But, I thought maybe if I was good enough you would change your mind. I do believe that you loved me once… perhaps you could again.”

Javert recalled similar conversations with Cosette and was faced with the reality that perhaps they should not have moved in with the family. Before they had moved in, it was only her older brother that he had to worry about. But, if they could make the oldest of the children doubt their love, then what were they doing to the youngest?

ValJean seemed to have been struck mute with shock. He looked at the oldest of his grand-daughters as though she were speaking in some foreign language.   
She took the pause to look at Javert. “Like with you and Collin,” she said with all of the honesty and tact of a preteen.

He gasped, his lungs forcing air through his body, as he contemplated the horror of what the girl had just said. 

“Jean, get Cosette. Victoria, get your brother. We need to talk about this, immediately,” he ordered, making sure to keep his voice as gentle as he could force it into. 

When the two had gone, he sat heavily on the couch. He had known his relationship was strained with Collin, but he hadn’t realized that it had broken down entirely. The two oldest children were too much like their mother. There were hurts and even injuries that she had suffered at the hands of the two men. 

Although Cosette had forgiven them readily, he didn’t want the children to think that a domineering and sometimes violent relationship was acceptable. Marius didn’t treat their mother like that, and while the concept was certainly not foreign to him, there was a new world of men these days. Their women were valued – especially in society. Even if they didn’t love or particularly like their wives, there was a societal standard that these children would be expected to uphold. He couldn’t let it break down and bring shame or distrust to this family. Although both Cosette and Marius had made it clear that they wished he had known Marius’ father better, he was relieved that he had not. What would such a man think of their brutish ways? He couldn’t image and the implications made him feel ill. 

A soft hand on his shoulder caused him to look up.

“You seemed across the world,” Cosette said ot him softly. 

“Perhaps I was,” he said, standing to give her the respect she deserved. He was not ill and he had become far too complacent in past months, choosing not to stand when she entered the room, treating her like a daughter rather than the woman of the house. 

He watched as Victoria and Collin came in, holding hands until they crossed the threshold of the room, and then acting like the small adults that they were.   
“Cosette,” he said, beginning to pace as the family called for sat down. “You know that I demand communication in my home.” 

She nodded, recalling the times when family meetings like this had been called in her youth. She wondered what her children had done to make him think that calling another had been a good idea. 

“Apparently, there have been more than a few misconceptions and preconceived notions to go around between those in this room – most especially the children and us. I invited you in as a courtesy.” His eyes narrowed as the children held hands. As soon as they saw him, they let go. 

He sighed. “The fact of the matter is hurtful and embarrassing for all involved. Apparently your children believe that we no longer love them.”

Her eyes widened and she looked at her two oldest. “How long?” she asked, both secretly amazed that they had been able to maintain the façade for so long, and feeling as though her heart would break. Both her papa and Javert had been concerned of just such a situation taking place. 

“About a year,” Collin answered. 

“A few months,” Victoria said, her voice small and full of shame. “Collin, I’m sorry. I’m just not as strong as you,” she said, sadly.

He sat up a little straighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

“I want to know why,” ValJean said, finally finding his voice again. 

“Because she is a lady. And she has never done anything to you to warrant your disdain,” he answered, giving ValJean an angry glance. 

A deep sigh, then, “No. Why, Victoria? What happened that you feel that I would stop loving you?”

“When you became ill, you said the most hurtful things. And since then, it seems I can do nothing to please you…” she said, not wanting to show that she recalled each instance with the detail of someone who had thought on it far too much for far too long.   
He closed his eyes, as though blocking them out would block out all of the hurt that the statement caused him. “I apologize. Of course I still love you.”

“Victoria,” Cosette interjected. “You know what it’s like to be ill, that you don’t feel like being nice to much of anyone?”

The young lady nodded.

“That’s how I feel, and I lose my decorum. I apologize if I hurt your feelings,” he explained.

“You said if I’m not like mama, I’m best out of your sight,” she said, her lower lip quivering quite out of her control. 

Broad fingers covered his mouth. “I ought not to have said it. I cannot even fathom what my intent was.”

“It was to hurt her,” Cosette said. “Papa, I love you, but when you are ill, you identify a person’s weakness and strike to hurt.” Turning to her attention to her daughter, she added, “You do not need to care for your grampere’s with me anymore. Should they become ill, you are welcomed to stray away from them.”

“I want to help,” she retorted. “I want to show that I love them.”

“We know you do,” ValJean said. “Please know that we love you too… that I love you too.”

Gentle curls bounced around her shoulders as she shook her head no. “I don’t believe you,” she admitted. “I know I’ll only anger you again and you’ll withdraw your statement. Love is conditional, right maman?”

The others in the room looked at Cosette, shocked. 

“Yes, my dear. There are always conditions to love and marriage. It’s like a contract of respect. But, you must know that your grampere’s love is irrevocable.   
They will always love you – and in their lives, this is not a contract to be entered into lightly. If they say they love you, then they do. You must believe this as simply and thoroughly as you believe that there is a God, a Heaven, and a Hell.” 

“And you,” Javert said, turning his attention to Collin. “Somehow you and I have been misunderstanding each other for a long while now.”  
The young man simply nodded, worried that anything that he would say would be wrong. 

“I don’t mean to be so hard on you… I just… I don’t know how to be a good grandpere. By the time I was your age, I was … “ he couldn’t tell them that he was a ward of the state… “studying to join the Navy. I was a man, and adult. I do not understand the way of thing now.” He paused. “Consider me a relic if you must, but please understand that the pressure that I put on you is done so because I want to mold you into the fine young man that I see you becoming.” Turning his attention to Cosette he continued, “I know this is Marius’ job, and I apologize for my insubordinace. It is the downfall of my own pride.”

“I don’t think less of you,” Collin said suddenly. 

“What?” Javert asked, eyebrows knit together in askance.

“Last fall. You were unwell, and asked me not to think less of you. I tried to assure you, but you seemed to take it as an insult. I don’t think less of you. I want to be like you, someday. If you’ll help guide me there.”

Javert’s chest tightened, and he flexed his hands to try to loosen up his arms. “It would be my honor.”

Once upon a time, Collin would have hugged him. But, all he did was nod, mimicking Javert’s movements. 

“You don’t have to be like your grampere Javert,” Cosette stated, breaking the moment between the two.

“But, I want to. I want to make him proud of me. I’m sorry for letting you down, sir,” Collin said as though his mother had not spoken and Javert was his commanding officer.

The look Javert gave the room stilled the adults. “We’ll have to work to make certain that it doesn’t happen again, cadet,” he replied seriously, though less seriously than he ever would have for an adult. His chest felt tight with repressed emotion. All at once, he felt what ValJean and Cosette had told him for years.   
He felt like he belonged in this family.


End file.
